The wise ones

Oh teeth of wisdom
you finicky things!
Can't you see that my
top jaw has room for only one of you
and the bottom, room for a half?

"No!" you cry, and push
your way mercilessly into my mouth.
Ouch.

And YOU, #17.
How dare you rest on
my trigeminal nerve?!?!
Potentially causing
numbness for life.
Shame on you.

But I [almost] got the best of you.
You won't make me get braces.
POOF! you're all gone.

And I am drugged
Like a hippy.
At Woodstock.

Why did everyone tell me
that these drugs were good?
They make me nauseous.
And dizzy. oooo the dizziness....

Don't they know I have
A thesis to write?
They don't care.
ugh.


This is the kind of poetry I come up with at 2AM. When I'm high on whatever drug they gave me, and yet still in pain... I should be an apprentice to Shel Silverstein.
At least I have pudding and applesauce. That makes the world better.