Glossalalia

Your tongue drips

the notes

of beginnings,

of explanations,

of reasons

in this unseasonable

spring

rushing forward

from springs,

powerful,

cold.

Stop babbling.

Just wash the feet

of your sinister

sister,

twisted,

writhing

in her knots

resistant

to the cheap shots

you take

at her.

Rave about

the savior

or about Molly,

by golly.

Euphoria is

euphoria

Regardless of

the source.

And god, is god

of course.

So speak

descending strands

of conversations

in a language

inscrutable

as melody

in Ornette's

Science Fiction.

 

Done