Roadkill:

I found a word today

crushed into disuse

its brittle white letters exposed

its smallest heartsound stilled.

 

The word I think – it is hard to be precise

with words found in forms

no longer used after they have fallen

by the roadside – was groovy.

 

That carried me back to pretending

when I was twelve with Patrick

that I was a Rockstar with long hair

singing Daydream Believer.

 

It took me forward from that

to my brother who continues to use grouse

another word threatened,

in the spoken context at least –

 

I presume, though do not know,

the flying variety still exists

out there in the whole wide world

alive unless it has been recently shot.

 

Time forces us to wear words out,

hits them with the force of a generation’s desire

to change words spoken

create new avenues for sound to parade along.

 

When I was really young

I was threatened

to have the tip of my tongue

snipped –

 

my mother even went so far as to display the scissors

that would perform the slicing deed –

I had uttered the word bloody

now I say fuck as frequently as the.