The drinking fountain squirted me.
It shot right up my nose.
It felt as if I'd stuck my nostril
on the garden hose.

It squirted water in my eye
and also in my ear.
I'm having trouble seeing
and it's really hard to hear.

The water squirted east and west.
It squirted north and south.
Upon my shirt, my pants, my hair,
but nothing in my mouth.

I'm sure that soon they'll fix it
but, until then, let me think...
just whom can I convince that they 
should come and have a drink?

--Kenn Nesbitt

This poem appears in the book
When the Teacher Isn't Looking