REHEARSING DYING.
Colin remembered the green
Of the dentist’s door; he
Remembered it from the time
Before, the brass handle, the
Knots in the wood, the smell
Of fresh paint, gas and the
Dentist’s peppermint breath
Leaning over him, his large
Looming eyes through thick
Lens peering at him. Uncle
Had been left in the waiting
Room with other people and
Magazines, dying for a cigarette,
Remembering his own last time
There having his final teeth
Removed before the false teeth
Came. Colin tried to be brave,
Recalling his mother’s words,
If you’re good, brave, and don’t
Cry, I’ll tell Donal to get you
A comic and a large green apple.
Open the mouth wide, the dentist
Said. Colin obliged and opened
Up, stretching the jaw until it
Ached, gazing up the dentist’s
Nose, looming just above a huge
Moustache like two small caves
Holding darkness, a solitary hair
Hanging from one side, greying,
Curling just to the left. The smell
Of the peppermint breath filtered
Down to him, the black gasmask
Coming down, the dental nurse
Lingering, staring, her mouth
Drawn tight into a slit, and Colin
Hearing their voices fading away
As he slipped down into the dark
Caves of the dentist’s nose, and
The all too embracing deathlike
Blackness of the inside of his head
As if he were rehearsing his future
Dying, playing a game of being dead.
