Zama, zama. Let’s go for it, in Zulu. Gone. Top right wisdom tooth, extracted. He froze the gum and pushed and tugged and wrenched for some time. Loosened this villain, rocked it and wobbled it and pulled and tugged again and again. I relax through pain and this sort of business. All muscles slump and I turn off my mind, until good thoughts emerge from the quiet darkness. I was taken dreamily through images and thoughts of a Southport hotel balcony where I was inspired at sunset and wrote two songs for the new album there and then, before, during and after dinner. And, more airily, I strolled on sandy beaches imagining painting my masterpiece. Now that is a dream. And the kids came by in this reverie, with jobs and a safe future. Now that really is a dream. Many thoughts passed by as he tugged and rocked and wrenched that wisdom tooth out of my head. Big, he said. Bizarre, too, he said. It’s got three roots instead of the usual one. Yes, it was infected recently and I ’ll be better off without it. Gone.