The Dentist-poem by Janet Stotts

THEDENTIST The dentist, barely older than I, gaped at me.  “You hit me,” he said, reproachfully. I had to take his word for it. I saw the needle coming out of the corner of my eye. Next thing I know, I’m out of the chair, a scream echoingin my ears. Now, the dentist and his assistant arelooking at me as if I’m an axe murderer. How to explain years of abuse by the only dentist in my small town. I can still feel his knee between mylegs as he leaned forward, grasping my pre-teen jaw with one meaty hand as he repeatedly pushed the large needle into the roof of my mouth.   How to tell theyoung dentist it wasn’t he I backhanded, but a much larger tormentor, and my rebellion wasyearstoo late. Poem by Janet Stotts Drawing by Janne Karlsson