2 The Dentist

I really must visit the dentist

It’s been on my mind for some time

But I’m really not keen on revealing

The things that he’s likely to find

He’ll say “Oh good grief, just look at your teeth

I’m afraid they’re far from the cleanest

Stifle your groans, just take out a loan

And ensure that you see my hygienist”

The hygienist of course is a sadist

Why else would you take on that job?

Torture disguised as a treatment

And a chance to stick pins in your gob.

It seems I might need a mortgage

I regret I was never insured

Though I have two teeth which are broken,

He’s refusing my club card reward.

The dentist is umming and aahing

He’s only just now getting started

He’s trying to look at my fillings

If only my lips could be parted

“Get out of my mouth you dentistry lout

Leave my holes and my fillings alone

In fact I’m not free can’t you see I’m busy

I really do need to go home”

He’s got his syringe he’s going to infringe

The privacy of my poor gums

The Nurse has a frown she’s got me held down

All I need to do now is succumb.

I’m hearing the drill I think I feel ill

I’m not sure if I’m numb yet or not.

I can’t open wide, I’m sorry I lied

That’s no hole, just a small blackish dot.

Give me a general I’ll be calm and convivial.

“OK madam you’re done, you can rinse.”

My god is it done, I’m so glad that I’ve come

Piece of cake – and not even a wince!

Fifty

If your bod can’t cut the mustard

and it’s worn and rather busted.

If the stairs and you agree

that they’re too much for your knee

If your butt is in the gutter

and your tits can’t raise a flutter

You get all flushed and flirty

with workmen under thirty

If the weight of all your slap

means your chin will need a strap

and your mind goes for a wander..

When you wish you’d been born blonder

There’s bits of you turned warty....

It’s because you’re well past forty.

Is your hairdo’s looking skunky

are you’re feeling slightly chunky

When once you were a milf

sadly no one wants a gilf (grandma).

If hairs begin to sprout

where you have to pull them out

Your words come out quite strange

you feel a bit deranged.

You’re grumpy dry and ratty

With a smile like Nora Batty

your age rhymes with nifty

Then you must be over fifty.

Ageing you confess

means, frankly you‘re a mess.

There should be compensation

for this age degeneration,

While the body’s in decline

Something else become sublime

…Hold that thought for just one second

this brain is acting strangely fecund,

I need to note a thought so clever

before it slips away forever..

Goddamn it when I’ve been profound

pen and paper can’t be found..

Hurry up stop your tarting

find it quick the thought’s departing..

Hang on though, just one second

..what the hell is flippin’ “fecund”