Teeth beef

Happy Sunday, friends!

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt: Write a poem in which you talk about disliking something — particularly something utterly innocuous, like clover. Be over the top! Be a bit silly and overdramatic.

Well, that’s just right up my alley, as you likely already know. My beef is more with maintenance than teeth themselves, but that subject line was too good to pass up.

Two whole minutes, twice a day
Stuck staring into the bathroom mirror
While rabid foam gathers on your jowls
Two firm lines between your brows

I long to whistle, but my mouth is filled
with bristles — I long to sing, but still
need to swish stinging listerine between

Teeth cleaning gums
my oft neglected tongue
blood in the bowl
opening the gaps, chipping
at plaque around my
permanent retainer
is a Sisyphean task

He rolls his rock up a hill
I shove toothpaste back into a tube
He has cheated death itself
I have finally washed away
every sweet memory of the day
till only a hint of mint remains

All of this toil
so my dentist can chuff
See I can tell
you’re not flossing enough