This poem was published in Lyrical Iowa, 2013, by the Iowa Poetry Association
Speak Me Aloud, Be Not Proud
Someone volunteered to read my poem aloud
to all of you without knowing that I
have filled it chock full of cacophonous consonants,
vodka-drenched with penetrating pauses in all the wrong spaces.Maybe Peter Piper did pick pickled peppers but more likely he pickled them after twisted tongues tickled his pickle and staccato tachistoscopic pauses during your professional presentation prevented your prepared pauses in all the problematic places.
After deliberate enunciation comes repetition, as the speaker is asked to say quickly
toy boat, toy boat, toy boat
without smiling, without error, and with the mouth speaking all phonemes softly like reading and not like writing and perhaps realizing that poetry is not meant to be peaceful playing of pejoratives but akin to gleefully proceeding down the slippery slope of a steep sliding board.