Tongue Tied

(after my traumatic brain injury)

Tedious exercises

arranged in a folder

lie on the coffee table –

breathless air passes between

my lips.  I strain

to elevate my tongue

visualizing

the accuracy of the implosive

connection.  But only an

inconstant fricative form follows.

Syllables

fumble towards

perfecting the pattern,

dah, dee, du, dau, separate

then as a series.

A sequenced variation of

consonants unfolds

as the combination continues,

this mechanical process

routine.

Repetitive sounds

customize and

carefully combine into

precise words: day: die: do: due

–quietly as

my thoughts reminisce

of an empty illusion

not found on the pages resting

before me.