The spirit, the scent, the rotting tooth
The spirit seeps
through the pressure
cracks splitting teeth,
clenched mouth, over time,
giving birth
to the feather fine
enamel fissures, creeping
through pulp into the root,
rotting stench
and that malevolent spirit
Fills the room--
antiseptic wipes &
new wrinkled bib &
autoclaved instruments &
white mask &
latex gloves &
the aroma of granular mint--
Everything smells sterile again until,
With another sickening crack,
The spirit seeps,
feather fine at a time,
pulp birthing rotting root,
rotting clench--
enamel fissured and the creaking,
drooling stretched mouth
lets slip the malevolent spirit
through the pressure,
another putrid release
gripping the tiny room--
Novocaine and the whir
of pneumatic drills,
suction and the sliding
mucus, sputtering air
and glare, blinding,
floating, gliding light,
cotton balls smothering
taste buds--
No, all their senses, save
smell, are suppressed & free.
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