The Dentist

Julie Mehretu’s Middle Grey

The Dentist

The smell of clean

sickens. Magazines from 1999

rot on waiting room chairs.

My turn – slowly trudge

toward tooth hell. Bleached

hygienist smiles beam

and usher hesitant feet

into a small chamber –

complete with reclining

spaceship chairs.

Laughing gas evaporates into

clouds with train tracks

and giggles rain down like

bird feathers. A fat Crayola

crayon fills in the landscape

with charcoal rocks and inky

trails. Let’s go

for a hike. The weather looks

a bit stormy – but we have light
heads and clean teeth.