Glossolalia : Echolalia

Wrack & wreck & rook
That emprise begets another & again
We are out of time, this world not keen
On us but wishing to push us back
Back to glossolalia—an echolalia
Pangloss-ian & Martin-esque—
The sound of a mouthful of wasps

Say what you mean to say & carry
It off, as if that was your intent all along
All along the abyssal sea floors
Beyond 3000 feet
Beyond where the wisps
Of blue light are choked black

“Perhaps there is nothing more beautiful than sound; and yet, attached to a police car with flashing lights in the form of a siren, sound can ultimately alter the landscape of one’s physical existence, literally in a finger Snap.”

—Randall Horton / on “preface to a traffic stop: sound”