Fountain

I lost my tongue. It simply dropped off
like it was a mere prosthesis.
As soon as it fell I quickly buried it,
thinking it looked particularly ugly
it its fleshy, unattached state –

but that was the least of my problems
when I opened my mouth a stream of water
shot from my lips like a water fountain
My jaw had mysteriously become a trigger
for a mischievous jet of water that spurted from my teeth
every time I attempted to speak.

I remained silent. Day/night
fixed at the intersection of two streets
at the meeting of four solemn buildings
Children would come
& stop & peer into the fountain
unknowing that with every drop they drank
from the purling waters that flowed
would slowly but surely,
restore my voice to singing.