Not Much Speak Of

Two languages, two accents, neither mine.
I can do them both, not adequately but so
you’d recognize their traces in my whine
and bark and stops for glottal. Travels sow
the seeds for weedy puns and frontiers grow
so porous that they’re more honoured in the breach
than in the competence I nearly reach.
Occasioning confusion, stares and glee,
I am grateful that despite my slanted speech
the natives here, and there, are kind to me.

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