Wisdom Teeth
      ... It was ... incessant ... mainstream music ... all the while
      ... when slowly ... I was vaguely ... first ... aware.
      Tuned to ... 99.7 ... on your FM dial ...
      The program ... was ... always ... there.
     ... Gradually it occurred to ... me
     I didn't know ... I didn't know ... my name.
     Who am I? Where am I supposed to ... be?
     Why don't I know from where ... I came?
    I hear an utterance ... A pleasant voice says "Hi,
    How are you feeling?" from a distant place far-flung.
    I cast about ... I desperately wanted to reply,
    But I couldn't move, I couldn't find ... my tongue.
   Facing the jury, and confused all the while,
   Vague memories welled up, floating fragments of me.
   A witness called me by my name ... as I stood at the trial:
   Recounting the countdown beginning my dental surgery.
  My tongue twice inventoried my teeth, but there were gaps, nonetheless.
  My head was clearing from the sedation.
  Some back-molars were missing ... And the music was relentless.
  Impacted, I couldn't tell if I could change the station.
Finally, after many restarts, my soul-program
Lit up the screen. I was running again, full-on.
I knew once again with certainty the answer to who I am.
My music was back on track ... but my wisdom teeth were gone.
©2004 Bill Grundmann
***   next     |     singularity

Return to Bill Grundmann's Writing Page