Languish Skulls

Posted on 10 Oct 2013 by Alan Reynolds

I am happiest where what I speak is foreign,
which is everywhere, increasingly, today,
My English suffers anguish from self-exile.
My French and Spanish languish, but get by
in situations where I’m buying something.
I’m told my grasp of spoken Dutch is perfect,
or were they telling me that I am deaf?
What’s next? Who knows? Habléis U Esperanto?

4 thoughts on “Languish Skulls”

Elise Skidmore on 10 Oct 2013 at 19:58 said:

Oh, I like this one very much. The beginning sets the tone–happy wherever you are is no small task. The fact that you can make due in 4 languages is impressive. :-)

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Francina on 10 Oct 2013 at 20:33 said:

Language soup is what I call that myself , Alan :-) great poem!
groetjes, Francina

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Tom Reynolds on 10 Oct 2013 at 21:16 said:

Dos yaziks, you say?

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Alan Reynolds on 30 Oct 2013 at 22:15 said:

Thanks for reading, Elise, Francina, and Tom :-)

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