I
Spare the tongue,
the poor old creature,
once dressed in cloaks of sonnet and sermon,
now stripped to fragments
wuup2
lol
k?
We could still lift it
not to polish, but to breathe,
to remind vowels they once rang in cathedrals,
not just bounced in group chats
like rubber truths.
We could speak
not just say.
We could mean
not just meme.
But do we dare slow down
when silence might ask something back?
Spare the language.
Or at least,
let it die
with a little dignity.
04 August 2025
Spare the Tongue
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin