cross oceans cross borders cross
lines of demarcation to infiltrate fine-print
dictionaries: old lingos trade
in silks and spices: they masquerade
as coffee and chocolate—
new words colonize (curses
as fusillades, masculine endings
at war with the uninflected): unprotected songs
can bombard as cannon, while liturgies
slash and burn—
some words travel stealthily, tense
but not declined, with or without
portmanteaux: others are trafficked, objects
purloined, passage by passage: names
may be pulled aside, chopped
and changed, subject to
minute scrutiny—
lines tighten
around abbreviated
dict(a): letters
bundle
into acronyms: un-
wound syllables
stutter
from mouth
to mouth—
kiss-word-kith-word-kin
not babble
not bible
survival.