there is violence in the solitary crib
a dark ache of anomie
dissociation
bleeding is feeling
pain equals pleasure
the tyranny of words that shape the consciousness
from the first moment of its winking on
sliding in
opening up
round syllables resonating
bounding reverberating
roaring
inside the unformed mind
with what music, what songs do we fill
the alien unfoldings of a million billion infant futures
as they lie helpless in our arms
drinking in our emotions and prejudices
with the reverb of milk
their fernlike cheeks unfurling
against our breathing humming vibrating breasts
just noise to the unschooled ear
the definitions coming later
the syllables take on meaning
and the tones we’ve come to know as the rhythms of days
our actions based in primal memory
grow from feelings of love or abandonment
anger, meanness
comfort or blessing
associated with those ethereal sounds
a heritage of the pre-lingual
the music of our words
in the land of First Contact
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