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Mossy writes songs, poems and plays in Binmen band.

He is also a baker.


Mossy Ryans


I arrive at the old station

The dart is terminating

It’s half past six

The last of the rush hour

Dribbling out in droves

Double file Marching home I see a lady hurriedly mistake this train

For one that goes on

This train is out of service

Some of us watch

Others don’t even notice

No one tells her this is out of service “Gobshite”


I’m not afraid of the dentist 

But I hate going to the dentist

It’s a waste of time on my day off 

I’d even go so far to say 

It’s a scam, a racket;

Create the problem and charge you to fix it 

Another surgically blue and white arm of the rotten little baby that the intercourse of capitalism and medicine gave birth to

I mean 

There’s tribes in Africa with perfect teeth 

And all they do is chew on liquorice root!


However, I can’t explain this to my ma 

As she rushes me out the door 

“You are going to be late for your filling” 

“My tooth’s not even sore” 

“It’s proactive, protective, preemptive” 

    -it’s procedural bollix that’s a bit ____ing expensive

But I’m not afraid of the dentist 


So I check in and get into the chair 

I chat the chat with my dentist 

A lovely English man by the name of Ted

With very little warning 

He then proceeds to shove two fingers upside my head 

“That’ll be the anisthehick, we’ll giv’at a minute to seh” 


Lying down with the goggles on, waiting for my mouth to numb 

He asks me about my work in the bakery; 

If I do much sampling of the goods I do be making 


Trying to get a gauge on my sugar intake 


In that instant I am a fenian prisoner 

Determined and resolute 

Not to give one goddamned word to my English interrogator…


“Yeah no I have the odd croissant from time to time” - leaving out the salacious cinnamon roll, hot chocolate knot, a colourfully decorated cookie, and sweeter than springtime Bakewell tart with raspberry jam filling 

all of which taste the better  having on the sly

“Righ well thah seems like enuff time lesgehonwih’itso”

My legs stiffen up and I clench 

Onto a piece of tissue in my hands 

As my poor little Irish mouth 

is invaded by An Englishman

I’m not afraid of the dentist 

It’s just a bit invasive 


I’m not afraid of the dentist 

But getting a filling is probably the closest experience to being abducted by aliens;

Lying paralysed on the chair, 

Conscious of the two masked figures 

Coming at me with their power tools 

I close my eyes and I hear the sounds 

Ringing through the air 

The whirrriiggggsss and brrrrrijngs 

The shlouupping and bzzzzzzing


Now they’re inside my mouth 


Theyre sanding and scraping 

What the fuck is that sound?!

Like a fork pulled over a ceramic plate 

Is that smoke?! Why do I smell smoke? 


The bastard has started a fire inside my mouth 

The friction of the power tools against my tooth

Has started a fire inside my mouth

Oh my face, my face 

It’s going to be irrevocably scarred,

Burned and ruined! 

I’ll get you for this Ted I swear I’m going to -


        “Righ, we’ll that should be everthingk”

         Says Ted as he slowly moves the chair

         Back upright


“Ah cheers Ted”, as I said; 

I’m not afraid of the dentist 

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