death of eloquence

we speak with only our mouths now

our tongues are docile

lethargy between our lips

thick & sweating

laugh like crow caw

cuts the holy silence

drunken our lips numb and fumble

sacred words scarred with conscious dissonance

eyes half shut

ears half closed

hear half what is done.

so the clatter &clamour & cacophony of regurgitated noise

falls from our gaping jaws

shatter – echo – on the floor

& rises to the ceiling like stench

and coils and curves and infiltrates

& runs screaming round our deaf skulls

trailing burning eden in their wake…

one – by the window – peruses the stars

fertile tongue paddles in spring

that trickles – clean & clear -

from the wet lips

only to be drowned in the silty tide

of music from only the mouth.