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Bittersweet

We make words that work

The Anglo-Saxon hoard

That was the dictionary

And all the other contributions from

All languages

Language cannot be its own end, I guess

Yet there are beautiful words

That are lost each day

Because the group has gone

Or, sad to say, been subsumed

Our words don’t come with protections

We could use all kinds

If it were a law to think before they’re uttered

Beyond the autonomic

Well, there’s not

We are not oppressors

Not all of us

Not yet

We can’t have a rule that says

Everything must be approved

We only have the inner voice

That speaks to fast for words

Because that’s how ir works

On the inside

 

So that with which to regulate is

Strapped with nervous speed

Adrenaline is good

And it’s hard

Speaking well is good,

Which is not about articulation

It’s about discretion

The better part

Of something

 

Unironically, if we could only pause

But I cannot make that happen

Nor would I want to

Yes, I would

But it would be so easy to hamfist it

To make a break with tension

A legality

Then we’d need freedom fighters for

Release from word-overlords

 

Whew,

Let’s simply take advice

Don’t kill the voice with alcohol

I know that doesn’t work

But listen for that voice that goes by too fast

Pull some seconds out

Stop in order to choose something better

Something good

Maybe wise

To say

 

C L Couch

 

 

By Man vyi – <span class=”int-own-work”>Self-photographed</span>, Public Domain, <a href=”https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20208143″>Link</a&gt;

Hauteville House – Victor Hugo’s copy of George Métivier’s Dictionnaire Franco-Normand