Monthly Archives: December 2011

Drilling the Bones

Play this (I’m Too Sexy)

The drill of the Dentist grinds against my teeth as I watch the freshly pulverized bone spiral up into the overhead light. Water streams down my left cheek, and I’m trying my best not to freak out too much as the good dentist works his way through a lively play list whistling a bar of “rock lobster,” mumbling a few lines of “Shorty Got Low Low low Low…” and finally jumping into full fledged song as “I’m too sexy” begins to play.

I consider the fact that If I were in some other context these karaoke sessions may almost be enjoyable. Hell If I weren’t in the middle of gagging on my own blood & inhaling the dust of what was formerly my teeth, I would probably start belting out the songs as well. Alas, that is not the case, what I am stuck doing is a series of isolatteral exercises so that I don’t freak the fuck out and punch someone who I assume is trying to help me out.

As my upper jaw was quite numb I contemplated the neuronal inhibiting magic of localized anesthetic injections, without which I might prefer to slowly let a tooth rot and fall out over facing the momentary pain of a dental drill. As soon as this stuff is injected pain ceases to exist, the only thing withstanding being the detection of significant pressure. I give a silent thank you for this and also consider the funny idea of trust. How does a person decide that it is OK to trust anyone with a couple of papers on their wall that say they did alright in training, a stock pile of anesthetics, and an interesting taste in music.

I think of all the times my older sister assisted in removal of my baby teeth.

I think of a white bearded old man I met at the Epic Cafe in Tucson who suggested I do all my own dental work and go find a pet raven…


Entering the Stream

I. It’s the second evening in a long legend of quiet retreat in which I’ve ventured to the outside world. Cigarette smoke begins replacing the air in the hall where bodies once were were-packed in tight to watch real humans in flight. After crashing a table of acquaintance gym rats I slip away silently into the night. My breath merges with the fog thick air. (I have resolutions to tend to this coming year.)

II. Ready for the Floor (play this)

III. I am sitting at a restaurant with two strangers I met moments before. To my right is a wall. To my left, a massive woman dressed in black. She is carefully put together with her short dark hair & pale skin painted over by foundation. Bubbling up from her soul is a full blown rant spiced by the salt of her margarita.

Across from me is a tall lanky man, shaved head in a beige trench coat as the evening wears on he dares to interject approvals and interpretations of her gospel.

“You are so timid,” she says, ” There’s a lot of fear in you…but you’re brave too. When you walk away I want you to take something with you. I want you to understand that tomorrow, when you wake up, you can choose to do whatever you want. Do you understand that? You can choose to do whatever you want.  This is really important…Every morning you start with a blank slate.”

They pick up the tab.

We part ways.