My Dentist
Sitting in the dentist’s chair,
Wishing that I wasn’t there,
To forget and pass the time
I have made this bit of rhyme.
I had a rendez-vous at ten;
I rushed to get in line,
But found a lot of dames and men
Had waited there since nine;
I stared at them, then in an hour
Was blandly ushered in;
But though my face was grim and sour
He met me with a grin.
He told me of his horse of blood,
And how it “also ran”,
He plans to own a racing stud –
(He seems a wealthy man.)
And then he left me there until
I growled: “At any rate,
I hope he’ll not charge in his bill
For all the time I wait.”
His wife has sables on her back,
With jewels she’s ablaze;
She drives a stately Cadillac,
And I’m the mug who pays:
At least I’m one of those who peer
With pessimistic gloom
At magazines of yester-year
In his damn waiting room.
I am a Christian Scientist;
I don’t believe in pain;
My dentist had a powerful wrist,
He tries and tries in vain
To make me grunt or groan or squeal
With probe or rasp or drill. . . .
But oh, what agony I feel
When HE PRESENTS HIS BILL!
Sitting in the dental chair,
Don’t you wish you weren’t there:
Well, your cup of woe to fill,
Just think of his infernal bill.
Related poetry:
- Home I came back late and tired last night Into my little room, To the long chair and the firelight And comfortable gloom. But as I entered softly in I saw a woman there, The line of neck and cheek and chin, The darkness of her hair, The form of one I did not know Sitting […]...
- Villonaud for This Yule Towards the Noel that morte saison (Christ make the shepherds’ homage dear!) Then when the grey wolves everychone Drink of the winds their chill small-beer And lap o’ the snows food’s gueredon Then makyth my heart his yule-tide cheer (Skoal! with the dregs if the clear be gone!) Wineing the ghosts of yester-year. Ask ye […]...
- Sersmith the Dentist Do you think that odes and sermons, And the ringing of church bells, And the blood of old men and young men, Martyred for the truth they saw With eyes made bright by faith in God, Accomplished the world’s great reformations? Do you think that the Battle Hymn of the Republic Would have been heard […]...
- Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
- My Hero Of all the boys with whom I fought In Africa and Sicily, Bill was the bravest of the lot In our dare-devil Company. That lad would rather die than yield; His gore he glorified to spill, And so in every battlefield A hero in my eyes was Bill. Then when the bloody war was done, […]...
- No Lilies For Lisette Said the Door: “She came in With no shadow of sin; Turned the key in the lock, Slipped out of her frock, The robe she liked best When for supper she dressed. Then a letter she tore. . . What a wan look she wore!” Said the Door. Said the Chair: “She sat down With […]...
- Gypsy Jill They’re hanging Bill at eight o’ clock, And millions will applaud. He killed, and so they have to kill, Such is the will of God. His brother Tom is on my bed To keep me comforted. I see his bleary, blotchy face, I hear his sodden snore. He plans that he can take Bill’s place; […]...
- The Reckoning It’s fine to have a blow-out in a fancy restaurant, With terrapin and canvas-back and all the wine you want; To enjoy the flowers and music, watch the pretty women pass, Smoke a choice cigar, and sip the wealthy water in your glass. It’s bully in a high-toned joint to eat and drink your fill, […]...
- Robinson The dog stops barking after Robinson has gone. His act is over. The world is a gray world, Not without violence, and he kicks under the grand piano, The nightmare chase well under way. The mirror from Mexico, stuck to the wall, Reflects nothing at all. The glass is black. Robinson alone provides the image […]...
- A Song Of The Sandbags No, Bill, I’m not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh (The cove be’ind the sandbags ain’t a death-or-glory cuss). And though I strafes ’em good and ‘ard I doesn’t ‘ate the Boche, I guess they’re mostly decent, just the same as most of us. I guess they loves their ‘omes and kids as much as you […]...
- The Answer Bill has left his house of clay, Slammed the door and gone away: How he laughed but yesterday! I had two new jokes to tell, Salty, but he loved them well: Now I see his empty shell. Poker-faced he looks at me; Peeved to miss them jokes – how h Would have belly-laughed with glee! […]...
- Buffalo Bill BOY heart of Johnny Jones-aching to-day? Aching, and Buffalo Bill in town? Buffalo Bill and ponies, cowboys, Indians? Some of us know All about it, Johnny Jones. Buffalo Bill is a slanting look of the eyes, A slanting look under a hat on a horse. He sits on a horse and a passing look is […]...
- Wistful Oh how I’d be gay and glad If a little house I had, Snuggled in a shady lot, With behind a garden plot; Simple grub, old duds to wear, A book, a pipe, a rocking-chair. . . You would never hear me grouse If I had a little house. Oh if I had just enough […]...
- Our Pote A pote is sure a goofy guy; He ain’t got guts like you or I To tell the score; He ain’t goy gumption ’nuff to know The game of life’s to get the dough, Then get some more. Take Brother Bill, he used to be The big shot of the family, The first at school; […]...
- Corny Bill His old clay pipe stuck in his mouth, His hat pushed from his brow, His dress best fitted for the South I think I see him now; And when the city streets are still, And sleep upon me comes, I often dream that me an’ Bill Are humpin’ of our drums. I mind the time […]...
- A Piece Of The Storm For Sharon Horvath From the shadow of domes in the city of domes, A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up From your book, saw it the moment it landed. That’s all There was to it. No more than […]...
- Sonnet to the Nightingale O nightingale that on yon blooming spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hopes the Lover’s heart dost fill, While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill, Portend success in love. O if […]...
- Messy Room Whosever room this is should be ashamed! His underwear is hanging on the lamp. His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair, And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp. His workbook is wedged in the window, His sweater’s been thrown on the floor. His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV, And […]...
- Uncle Bill My Uncle Bill! My Uncle Bill! How doth my heart with anguish thrill! For he, our chief, our Robin Hood, Has gone to jail for stealing wood! With tears and sobs my voice I raise To celebrate my uncle’s praise; With all my strength, with all my skill, I’ll sing the song of Uncle Bill.” […]...
- To The Nightingale O Nightingale! that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover’s heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill, Portend success in love; O, if […]...
- The Penitent I had a little Sorrow, Born of a little Sin, I found a room all damp with gloom And shut us all within; And, “Little Sorrow, weep,” said I, “And, Little Sin, pray God to die, And I upon the floor will lie And think how bad I’ve been!” Alas for pious planning – – […]...
- Those Annual Bills These annual bills! these annual bills! How many a song their discord trills Of “truck” consumed, enjoyed, forgot, Since I was skinned by last year’s lot! Those joyous beans are passed away; Those onions blithe, O where are they? Once loved, lost, mourned now vexing ILLS Your shades troop back in annual bills! And so […]...
- The Coward ‘Ave you seen Bill’s mug in the Noos to-day? ‘E’s gyned the Victoriar Cross, they say; Little Bill wot would grizzle and run away, If you ‘it ‘im a swipe on the jawr. ‘E’s slaughtered the Kaiser’s men in tons; ‘E’s captured one of their quick-fire guns, And ‘e ‘adn’t no practice in killin’ ‘Uns […]...
- The Goops The meanest trick I ever knew Was one I know you never do. I saw a Goop once try to do it, And there was nothing funny to it. He pulled a chair from under me As I was sitting down; but he Was sent to bed, and rightly, too. It was a horrid thing […]...
- Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
- Dunes WHAT do we see here in the sand dunes of the white Moon alone with our thoughts, Bill, Alone with our dreams, Bill, soft as the women tying Scarves around their heads dancing, Alone with a picture and a picture coming one after the Other of all the dead, The dead more than all these […]...
- Bill's Prayer I never thought that Bill could say A proper prayer; ‘Twas more in his hard-bitten way To cuss and swear; Yet came the night when Baby Ted Was bitter ill, I tip-toed to his tiny bed, And there was Bill. Aye, down upon his bended knees I heard him cry: “O God, don’t take my […]...
- Sailor Son When you come home I’ll not be round To welcome you. They’ll take you to a grassy mound So neat and new; Where I’ll be sleeping O so sound! The ages through. I’ll not be round to broom the hearth, To feed the chicks; And in the wee room of your birth Your bed to […]...
- Dyspeptic Clerk I think I’ll buy a little field, Though scant am I of pelf, And hold the hope that it may yield A living for myself; For I have toiled ten thousand days With ledger and with pen, And I am sick of city ways And soured with city men. So I will plant my little […]...
- The Auction Sale Her little head just topped the window-sill; She even mounted on a stool, maybe; She pressed against the pane, as children will, And watched us playing, oh so wistfully! And then I missed her for a month or more, And idly thought: “She’s gone away, no doubt,” Until a hearse drew up beside the door. […]...
- Justice Denied In Massachusetts Let us abandon then our gardens and go home And sit in the sitting-room Shall the larkspur blossom or the corn grow under this cloud? Sour to the fruitful seed Is the cold earth under this cloud, Fostering quack and weed, we have marched upon but cannot Conquer; We have bent the blades of our […]...
- Bill and Joe COME, dear old comrade, you and I Will steal an hour from days gone by, The shining days when life was new, And all was bright with morning dew, The lusty days of long ago, When you were Bill and I was Joe. Your name may flaunt a titled trail Proud as a cockerel’s rainbow […]...
- Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
- Life Let me but live my life from year to year, With forward face and unreluctant soul; Not hurrying to, nor turning from the goal; Not mourning for the things that disappear In the dim past, nor holding back in fear From what the future veils; but with a whole And happy heart, that pays its […]...
- A Million Young Workmen, 1915 A MILLION young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads, And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh will in the years feed roots of blood-red roses. Yes, this million of young workmen slaughtered one another and never saw their red hands. And oh, it would have been […]...
- The Pilot Up in a dirty window in a dark room is a star Which an old man can see. He looks at it. He can See it. It is the star of the room; an electrical Freckle that has fallen out of his head and gotten Stuck in the dirt on the window. He thinks he […]...
- The Coquette, and After (Triolets) I For long the cruel wish I knew That your free heart should ache for me While mine should bear no ache for you; For, long the cruel wish! I knew How men can feel, and craved to view My triumph fated not to be For long! . . . The cruel wish I knew […]...
- The Sloth In moving-slow he has no Peer. You ask him something in his Ear, He thinks about it for a Year; And, then, before he says a Word There, upside down (unlike a Bird), He will assume that you have Heard A most Ex-as-per-at-ing Lug. But should you call his manner Smug, He’ll sigh and give […]...
- The Volunteer Sez I: My Country calls? Well, let it call. I grins perlitely and declines wiv thanks. Go, let ’em plaster every blighted wall, ‘Ere’s ONE they don’t stampede into the ranks. Them politicians with their greasy ways; Them empire-grabbers fight for ’em? No fear! I’ve seen this mess a-comin’ from the days Of Algyserious and […]...
- Self-Love He that cannot choose but love, And strives against it still, Never shall my fancy move, For he loves ‘gainst his will; Nor he which is all his own, And can at pleasure choose, When I am caught he can be gone, And when he list refuse. Nor he that loves none but fair, For […]...