Oakley Flanagan
Apparently Personal
my mother doesn’t like the apparently personal
atmosphere of dentist clinics when they are anything but
personal her tooth is rotting her scepticism is at least well—
founded it was a dentist who invented the electric chair apparently
he witnessed a drunk man die after touching a live generator
realising electricity could better suit the then current cultural
hegemony of punishment I receive an offer from a professional
paying for an Uber to a high-rise apartment boasting superior
views of the city if I was less concerned with the teeth I might have
written how below everyone looked small and insignificant
in comparison but then the laying on of hands some remedial
touching on the sofa after which I followed behind happy enough
through a door leading to another me to a room empty other
than a leather chair modified for the purpose he asked I sit
while he stood I supposed it went with the territory I sat
he stood there was a bit of chafing it was hot the leather smelt
like a dead cow he asked I clamp his nipples until he cried
out saying he loved me most when I did this for him as if I did this
sort of thing on a regular basis it was not what I expected
from prior experience I imagined he might have said open wide
ask to see my teeth and I bend over o I have a horror of oral
exposure my yellow pennies his pearly y-fronts reiterate
the facts fortunately he kissed me unfortunately his lips felt
like an eraser I wondered if I let it go on longer whether I’d grow
faceless he upset cited a boyfriend heartbreak ordering another man
from another app to take me home paying with his company account
I could have cried over this generosity of his the driver dropping me a mile
and a half from my rented refused to go further past the empty station
it was raining my phone was dead I was very angry but very alive
the next morning I to a flatmate said I’m going as a demon dentist
for Halloween the CEO of the sex app gave an interview going on record
to clarify the name originated from a coffee grinder he was at pains
to stress how the app brought people together a bit of a social stew he said
like the coffee grinder the app is representative of community like the coffee
house in Friends which acts as one imagined space for the group to be seen
outside in public daylit enjoying coffee and trust funds and trusting nothing
truly awful ever happens to the friends on account of their humanity
stressed from the outset the genuine love they share for one another the kind
that makes them fundamentally good and wholly relatable to television
viewers who just were the demographic the producers were reaching
for when they originally pitched the show as Friends Like Us
because who can argue with a title like that?
in the year leading up to the dentist I kept seeing the face of a man
at theatres at bus stops walking home accompanied by a chattering set
of teeth which made me near frantic when they began a random grinding
motion I focus my attention on the play about a bad man with good friends
the friends are trying to keep a lid on the social media fall—out
We Had No Idea is the general line of defence We’re Just As Surprised
As You I am an audience member of my life at the fright night
a costumed woman recognises me through my outfit
fighting her way past a sea of bloody girls in uniforms
to get close my female professor tells us the ultimate male fantasy
is the dead wife returning to avenge in a lecture room the costumed
woman crosses the dancefloor interrupting the teeth she asks how
I have been I ask if she wants the story or the truth the truth
obviously the schoolgirls are survivors on the dancefloor the song
testament but the boy beside me nameless I can’t blame him so quote
the female professor quoting the feminist critic to the costumed woman
unable to remember the woman’s name in question who first
articulated the point circling twice over WHO WHO
earlier that night I watched my girls getting ready
frightening I said how little effort to suddenly become
victims but I have never felt comfortable wearing dresses
I sat on a rickety wooden structure as another stood above
me dyeing my beard a temporary blue I was assured
would come out and say it
OAKLEY FLANAGAN is a poet and playwright. Recent work for theatre includes This Queer House (OPIA Collective, VAULT). Their poetry can be found in Poetry London, Wasafiri Magazine, Under The Radar, and Poems from a Green and Blue Planet (Hachette).