Melody of Lost Languages
sharpen this pen
unsounded words
older than old voices
opening ancient arteries voices
leaving idioms
modern litanies
to say amen to memories
before experience shoves us forward
Though without us
no one knows our thoughts
(or they keep them secret)
we trans(be)lated
all that the sober mind dictated
but in Convoluted Languages
bizarre Babels
without a computer
to retrieve our Past