Speaking a second language is
How I am punished for my original sin.
I cannot point to the thing with the same
Elegant manner as the commercial guy
With shining teeth.
It teases me, mocks me, parodies me
On my incompetence,
Like the biggest bully from
The pitifulest child’s childhood.
It seduces me in my throat,
Encouraging it to produce
The wrong words.
Sweet, sweet,
A sweet temptation
To express not what is in my mind.
To speak is to think,
And to think is to write.
With the demon lodging in my head,
I get to taste
The sweet, sweet
Feeling of poetry.
The world where
The guy with shining teeth
Does not live.
edited by Andrew Shields