Oh Doctor Novocain

Oh doctor Novocain hear my precious plea

root me some molar magic

with that blessed anesthesia therapy

before you drill and thrill

and send that chill through my jaw,

let me fathom tooth fairy mercies

while you hold that needle in your hand.

 

Can you forgive my floss floundering,

do you have a soul for detecting decay

that can caress my enamel,

bewitch my bicuspids

so I don’t dwell in pain’s pit?

 

Woe to me that I should confess

all the tooth transgressions

of my mouth’s misguided ways,

for I sit here before you

a mere mortal of marred means,

just clinging to this frail hope

there is grace in your implements,

forgiveness in your tools.

 

Now take me to that numbed bliss

let me lie in its layer of comatose illusions,

tell me sweet lies that it will all be okay

until I wake to the swollen gum consequences

over my failed vigilance in dental proclivities.