[Editor’s Note: This is the 11th in a series of poems from “Body Parts,” Dr. Janet Hoult’s collection of poetry about aging.]
Pearly Whites
While in Brazil on duty,
my husband contracted a bug
His gums grew weak,
could not hold his teeth
So they fell one by one on the rug.
He only lost two in the process,
but partials became necessary
Fitted into his mouth,
they came in and came out
And his temper became quite contrary.
In ways that he never expected,
the partials became quite a problem
Especially in Spain,
where one fell down the drain
And restricted his diet to pablum.
So he now has two teeth implanted,
2 thousand for each pearly gem.
He can chew and chew,
with his mind eased, too
‘Cause he knows that he won’t swallow them.
The pain is now in his wallet,
which is so much flatter by far
But it still makes sense,
to spend dollars and cents
And not keep his teeth in a jar.
Ms. Hoult, who lives in Carlson Park with her husband Charlie, may be contacted at HOULTight@aol.com
