The Dentist’s Chair

Reclining in the chair
My head below my knees
Waiting for the needle
Feel I want to sneeze.

TV Screen above me
Fixed onto the ceiling
Scene of pure composure
To nullify my feeling

Dentist leaning over
Says “No worse than a sting,
Just a gentle tug,
You’ll hardly feel a thing.”

I feel the pincers grasp it
That remnant of a tooth
Left over from extraction, 
Botched up in my youth.

And then the tugging starts, 
A rip, a tear, a yank,
I felt a sudden rumble
Like the revving of a tank.

He showed me what he’d dug out
Of my poor infected jaw,
A bloody piece of bone
Covered in spit and gore.

All I wanted then was
To get out of his chair;
Escape his gloating clutches,
No more of this nightmare.

It’s taken nearly two weeks, 
No longer feeling sore.
An abscess on one’s gum
One cannot just ignore.