My tongue has a mind of its own
Exploring the inside of my mouth
Worrying over my teeth for morsels left behind
Checking every nook and cranny for debris.
I have a broken molar filling that drives it crazy
Though I try to resist the urge to go there
Knowing I look like a demented old man
Seeing my tongue dancing in an open mouth.
It was not always this way of course
Once food did not lodge between my teeth
Requiring a flossing session after every meal
An intimate consequence of advancing age.
The worst is when my tongue gets in the way
Stupidly cut as I chew without thinking
As disturbing as when saliva goes down my windpipe
A sudden reminder that my circuits are failing.
But life is good all the same perhaps a bit tongue in cheek
Being aware of my teeth I marvel at these choppers
Considering their considerable history of wear and tear
Getting the job done keeping me going through it all.
I remember when I was four and missing a tooth
My father saw my tongue turned upside down in the hole
Telling me I had some special gene to be able to do it
When you’re a kid losing teeth is almost cute.
From tooth to teeth the ancient plural vowel change
Remains as a bit of the ancestors living in our language
Like the Neanderthal genome extracted from a tooth
That reveals their jaws still press together in us.
As the cold wind today howls blowing around the house
I dress warmly to go out walking into the teeth of it
Thinking how our language is so full of metaphors
Providing my imagination with something to chew on.
