Waiting in the queue
for the bus that never comes
I am pondering the aesthetics
of the modern English tongue.
Speak, and thou shalt be spoken to
only if you can
fail to enunciate
with the pride of the Common Man.
A strange re-learning this,
undoing years of elocution
to master colonial linguistics
for a post-colonial re-education!
I am trying to remember
to forget the t's
and slash the g's
off the end-in(g)s
I am gathering together
a homeless family
of split
infinitives.