Photo By Jools Thatcher

Photo By Jools Thatcher

The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Check” or “Cheque”

Ed Bates on  the guitar duties this week, it sounds really nice.


Check / cheque / czech

The mail arrives; A postcard – Someone cares – I wonder who?
Agh – A reminder from the dentist that my checkups overdue

Genuine concern for my molars and incisor?
Or paying the deposit on his new Ferrari Spider?

Still, one tooth’s slightly sensitive when sucking ice or such
No harm in a check up, I mean it couldn’t cost that much

His receptionist reminds me there’s a fee for coming late
So I turn up bang on time and I wait – and wait – and wait

Till finally I’m ushered, by his nurse, into the chair
She reclines me, then blinds me, with a lamp that hangs mid-air

Leaves me staring at the ceiling to contemplate my fate
In the distance, a drill and screaming and I wait – and wait – and wait

The dentist flies into the room, half a smile and half a frown
The remains of his lasagne still clinging to his gown

I explain I want a check up – but he acts like I’m not there
Keeps chatting to the nurse – I think they’re having an affair

First, he orders X-Rays, then starts chuckling to himself
I assume he’s discovered my teeth in perfect health

He fills my mouth with clamps and gags – gives no reason why
Then he asks me questions – when he knows I can’t reply

He ignores my frantic blinking and gestures with my toes
In desperation I try Morse Code by wriggling my nose

Then he briefly mentions price and asks permission to progress
I grunt “Stoa, umgh, nou” – He grins “I’ll take that as a yes”

I try to grab his testicles but the nurse comes to his aid
A blast of nitrous oxide – I feel all resistance fade

My mouth, at once, surrenders to a 9ml aspirator
A sickle probe, a scaler, a retractor and excavator

The needle reads the slightest twinge injecting more pain killer
Till I can’t tell distal from mesial, my mandible from maxilla

Next thing I’m at reception, still buzzing from the drill
They ask me to take a seat while they formalise the bill

They hold a summit, crunching numbers – takes an hour to calculate
I’m trying not to dribble while I wait – and wait – and wait

Three Grand! Piss off! I try to say – but shock has struck me dumb
Bethides, thankths to anaesthetic Ith sthill cthan’t theel my thongue

I write a cheque – I hope it clears – I sign it grudgingly
He says “Make it Not Negotiable” – I think “You’re not telling me”

By now my jaw is throbbing and I’m thinking “Life’s bizarre”
One piss ant, little molar’s cost me more than my last car

I resolve to be more resolute before I open wide
Cause my tooth is still as sensitive – he filled the other side

But I only have myself to blame – falling for his spin
He makes a fortune drilling holes – then he’s paid to fill them in

Next time I get a postcard to say my teeth need to be checked
I’ll go to a proctologist – at least you know what to expect

© Copyright 2009 Ian Bland

One comment on “Bland On Bland – Check

  • I am sure I am financing my dentists new BMW – I will be practicing my new mantra as he is re-constructing my back tooth on Friday “He makes a fortune drilling holes – then he’s paid to fill them in” That’s gold! (unlike my teeth!)

    Fangs for the laugh,
    The Claw

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