Oscar pays his Due Diligence in Dreams

I move past the stack of court 
papers I so lovingly put 
on the toilet. Blinky eyes find 
the faucet and I turn it on. 

Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip—my
earlobe pressed against counter 
top, dull eyes watch water drop, 
a slow pool forms at the clogged 

drain. Yellowed toothbrush loose 
at my fingertips, slathered with 
foamy Colgate. I take a deep 
breath—my numbed skull sobs

with mercy. Cabinet mirrored 
reflection watches me, surveillanced
in my own bathroom. “Red Rover, 
Red Rover, send Oscar on over.” I hear

myself say. My eyelids twist open 
and shut like blinds as Colgate 
toothbrush snags against all
my thirty-two teeth.

Years I spent, riddling my teeth
with utmost care. A view of icecaps
you’d see on the Discovery Channel.
Very crisp to the eye 

like rowed musical notes 
on a Steinway grand. Except 
when an occasional flat note came 
around to lurk as a fairy floated near. 

But soon rouge mixes in 
with the white foam. The surveillance 
camera zooms—I feel the control. 
I continue, but brush harder

and harder. So hard the piles of court 
files float off the toilet lid with the zephyr. 
My eyes scan from my profession, back 
to my reflection—my teeth, my livelihood.  

                 Plunk. 

                 Plunk. 

                 Plunk.

I gather my eyes at the clogged 
pond where three pristine teeth 
collect, bits of my pink fleshed
gums are along for the ride. 

***

Madeline Weisbeck graduated from SUNY Oswego in the Spring of 2020, where received her degree in Creative Writing. She has been published four times in SUNY Oswego’s literary magazine The Great Lake Review and was the recipient of the 2020 Academy of American Poets Prize hosted at Oswego, along with receiving an honorary mention from the Alix Madigan-Yorkin Short Script Award. In June of 2021, she was published in Thriller Magazine’s Volume 4, Issue 1 for her poem “Heebeegeebees.”