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Tuesday, November 4, 2003
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IDIOGLOSSIA
Out of silence you release
a cataract of syllables:
consonants collide
and vowels burst
like bubbles. Itís
a mash of nouns,
a fractured trail
of verbs. Itís
three coins rattling
in a glass; a rippled
plait of water over
stones; beads falling
from a broken thread.
Itís information, or
a disembodied song,
or verse unchained
from its syllables.
Itís messages from
before your own blood ñ
time of the shared heart,
the underwater breath.
12:14:45 AM 
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© Copyright
2006
Dick Jones.
Last update:
7/1/06; 08:36:26.
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