The Rogozovian Drafting Method
Wincing, wailing and wanting to withdraw.
Examining your mouth via the bathroom mirror,
As you sit in the sink.
Your white socks wet.
The lights too dim.
An angry spouse, an unwilling son.
A good amateur hygienist is worth its weight in gold fillings.
Extraction comes with pops and cracks.
Rinse and spit.
Your white socks red.
A hole the size of the pink eraser at the end of your #2 Ticonderoga,
But your tongue is convinced it’s larger than a crater lake.
Time for the transplant.
Candy Corn for Halloween?
Painted wood, like Forefather #1?
Sculpey hardened in the toaster oven?
très chic! Sexy.
And to think. This is only the first draft.
Perhaps Leonid Rogozov will assist during revision.