Owning the Devil’s tongue


Dad is now a germinating tuber
He soaked his heart in the pool of death
Now he us planted on my left palm
I was poisoned by the whispers of dad’s voice
So I intoxicated my voice, arraying my words
to myself. Mom says I speak the devil’s tongue
She will groom the devil inside me like dressing
a vine. I substitute the words of father into my mouth.
on my lips the devil found a home
where the warmt of pain dwelled. I practiced
dad’s act on his wheel driving misery away
from my home, mom said I now yap demons freely
I sing a lip wrapped in dad to mom
so I could know the places dad had gone
inside her body. Mom says Satan’s
actions are now audible in my hands
so she waves the ‘holy oil’ and fetches
a crooked cane for the cleansing of my
possessed mind into holiness.
Dad’s ghost stands beside my shadow
I drank his silence and tried to birth
a rhythm for mom to see that I am not possessed
but tortured by pain, dumbfounded by tears
and cheated by nature. I am
a reflection drowning beyond this land
in a mouthful I sorrows.

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