In a newborn nation
A great man
Unlocked the most curious drawer
Of an enormous desk
From the depths of the drawer, gently he lifted
A slick black contraption
He placed it gingerly before him
Paused (perhaps to pray)
And then lifted an appendage of the gadget to his ear
A finger more accustomed to squeezing triggers
He poked into an alien groove
Slowly, carefully, he moved his hand in a circle
Activating the device
Disconcerting sounds filled his ear
He closed his eyes
Then came the voice - high pitched, brisk
"I need... help," said the man shakily.
"How may I direct your call?"
"It's... It's these teeth, you see. The wood..."
"How may I direct your call, sir?"
"I was thinking maybe if some teeth could be made of... whatever this... this infernal device... is made of... perhaps..."
"Sir... I need the number or the name of the party you wish to reach."
"It's these damned wooden teeth!"
The man jerked his red face to the door
Whereupon a strident knocking
In a frenzied moment, he swept the device
Back into its drawer
As he keyed the lock
His wig askew
The door burst open
"President Washington, are you... Do you need assistance?"