All
text and images Copyright Tim Myers 2008
Tim Myers:
Books for
adults
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1 Tim
Myers
To His Tongue
Like baby crawling you can't stay still.
Conductor's
baton, you orchestrate me.
How easily twist yourself, oh contortionist,
to
make the sounds, how rapid, my dancing snake!
But wholly without opinion
on the words I choose:
I stupidly scold when my four-year-old spills
dinner;
I recite seraphic poems.
Old opportunist, as willing to assist in
sex
as decry injustice or sing a lullaby!
Dog in your kennel barking
my body your own,
bell of this temple of self,
demagogue rousing my
flesh,
I suspect you are more than a servant--
part meat, part
bird--
how did the Emptiness every construct
so odd an
archangel!
