Dentists and Farriers Drink Too Much
by Christa Fairbrother
The tropical fish swim in sleepy coral circles. My mind knows the tank is here to calm me. My jaw disagrees. No Chiseltooth Wrasse is suckering this shark.
We goggle up before you dive in. You narrate Sir David Attenborough style. My mouth is stuffed with ten rolly polly sausages so my responses are less Jacques Cousteau than Muppet comedy special. My half of the conversation is all Swedish Chef. Aroogh if mumph. Ahh, monin flooshish lisbol.
We both spend our days treading water, paid to cause pain for a living. The little cavities, the rot, we’re not descending into the depths to dig it out of others. We’re fighting to keep our own heads up, out of the bottles drowning us.
Christa Fairbrother, MA, is the current poet laureate of Gulfport, Florida. Her poetry has appeared in Arc Poetry, Pleiades, and Salamander. She’s been a finalist for The Pangea Prize, The Leslie McGrath Poetry Prize, and nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She’s had residencies with the Sundress Academy for the Arts, the Bethany Arts Community, and her chapbook, Chronically Walking, was a finalist for the Kari Ann Flickinger Memorial Prize. Water Yoga (Singing Dragon, 2022), her nonfiction book, won medals from the Nautilus Book Awards and the Florida Writers Association. Connect with her at www.christafairbrotherwrites.com.