pathways
of the private
hospital.
*
If I was doing this post as live to air radio, it would not be appearing. I had the last of my teeth taken out this morning, my mouth has only just cleared of blood, the anaesthetic has worn off so I can move my lips, the painkillers have kicked in. I'm bearing it, but I can't grin about it.
*
I now have teeth that gleam like a Bollywood star's. Pity about the rest of me, plus I can't sing, can't dance.
*
I chip away at my writer's block. Carrera marble.
*
This morning, as I brushed my teeth, I thought about the Borges poem that begins
Of all those streets that wander to the west,
there must be one (I do not know which one)
which unawares I have walked down for a last
indifferent time…..
*
I dream of solid food.
*
Actuality.
Two antibiotics.
Two painkillers.
Washed down with a nice glass of salt water.
*
Gummy bears.
*
Where are you Hannibal Lector, now that I have need of you?
4 comments:
I congratulate you on your new set of beautiful bionic choppers, and hope you feel better soon.
dr lector methinks has gone hollywood and will only eat the flesh from nubile starlets sans the chianti, but will stoop now and again to swill a chilled flask of cristal
had a series of surgeries a couple of years ago to halt the retreat of my gums
a toast to yr choppers!
fava beans are quite delectable and easy to chew.
but you know that, don't you?
ha, ha, haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
You'll now be able to sing 'fangs for the memory', with feeling, I guess.
All the best, Jill.
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