At the
Dentist
by
Robert Nordstrom
Stretched
out in this space-age La-Z-Boy
a
high-speed Swedish-steel factory
whining
inside my head
this
guy cradles my head against his belly
like
maybe he thinks it's me who's whining
and
tells me he had a bad day
Dow
Jones dropped 500 plus
but
that's not his problem
and
even if it were
these
high-rise windows don't open
my
palms are sweaty
but
it's his bad day
and
my bad luck
to
be listening to this shit
my
whole life it seems
just
can't get a word in edgewise
what
with this noise inside my head
and
these people who make their point
despite
the din
leaving
me no recourse
but
to wish I were a bald toothless monk
with
the wisdom to understand
why
these two skinny boys
and
sullen little fat girl
are
hanging in a frame
on
a wall
next
to a plant noose
in
front of a window
that
won't open
~
first published in Main Street Rag
