The New Dentist
The New Dentist
by Jaimee Kuperman
Driving to the new dentistâ€™s office
the slow drive of a new place
with the McDonalds that I donâ€™t go to
on the left, the mall two miles away.
The Courthouse and the Old Courthouse
road signs that break apart, the fork in the road
that looks nothing like a fork or a spoon, in fact
at best, maybe a knife bent in a dishwasher
that leans to one side. And I know the dentist
will ask about my last visit and want to know
in months that I canâ€™t say some time ago
and I know he will ask me about flossing
and saying when Iâ€™m in the mood wonâ€™t be
the appropriate answer.
He will call out my cavities
as if they were names in a class.
I brush my teeth before going in.
Itâ€™s like cleaning before the cleaning person
but I donâ€™t want him to know I keep an untidy
mouth. That I am the type of person who shoves
things in the closet before guests arrive.
0 thoughts on “The New Dentist”
I think you captured the dread and shame of visits to the dentist like a hungry incisor biting into the heart of a giant gummy bear. This molar story flows really good, i thought. It’s funny yet it unveils something serious about our nature–how we like to put-off things and then play catch-up in no time. God, i know my dentist by name, his kids, and owe a great debt to him for fixing my poor neglected mouth over and over for around 15 years or so. Luckily he’s not the type to give me lectures–his dental assistant does that along with my wife. Thx for sharing!
New socks on dirty feet. We lost shoe salesmen and yet when I go to pick out my own new boots~ I make sure my socks are pristine before leaving for the store. I wonder once dentists are replaced if we will still thoroughly brush before seeing the Dentrobot3000 and what will be lost if we don’t.