Instagram Dentists, Part 1

A poem

I do not want an Instagram dentist

I want the one that’s been around for 50 years,

the one with gray fluorescent waiting rooms, lived-in chairs,

and last season’s Homes & Gardens splayed across the coffee table

I do not need an Instagram vet

I want the one that’s up the hill with Dr. Marsh, the one that served my parents’ pets, and now mine

The one with the weird hours, where the receptionists know your name

I do not desire an Instagram coworking space

The public library does just fine, thanks

I do not require a reservation at an Instagram restaurant

I just need the food to be good

and the company even better

The places that deliver arched-mirror aesthetics and limewash-painted walls

are the ones that lack in personality, charm, individuality

I do not want to have to pay for beauty

My beauty lies in connection

No, not the swipeable kind

I feel lonely in these spaces

More self conscious, less grateful, competition and envy fueling my fire

These places are set up for us to pull out our phones

And put away any genuine, lasting connection

I’ll take the inconvenience over the VC-backed business

Calling a person over an in-app purchase

A shop with crooked floors and maybe a little history

‘Closed for lunch’ signs

Shuttered doors in the month of Agust

A real human being

Taking rest like the rest of us

Cover photo: A First Visit to the Dentist, Edward Hughes (1832-1908)