Glossolalia : Echolalia (redux)

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

What I’m Reading:

No smoking in the torture chamber.

— Samuel Beckett / Dream of Fair to Middling Women