Speaking in Tongues

Speak to me in ancient tongues
as if in my subconscious mind
the threads of some genetic past

can be rewound around a lingo
neither you nor I now know;
or better yet, just make it up

as you go on. For heaven’s sake,
don’t let the conversation drag;
it wouldn’t do now to let on

that it’s just nonsense. Go on, spew,
and we’ll agree, the two of us,
that it’s either a fragment from

some yellowed scroll of Babylon,
or else the language demons use
when they’ve got naught but bullshit, too.

24 APR 2006

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| April 24th, 2006 | Posted in Poems |

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