A dogmatic grammarian,
a know-all, with a frog’s
face, croaks from a well.
He glowers at error-insects
with his bulging eyes.
Children gape with their
tongues stuck in rules.
Expressions hobble.
Emotions are mangled.
There’s a relief in yawning.
Ma, grandma, pa and
grandpa never learned
grammar, yet their dreams,
doldrums, squabbles,
calumnies, ecstasies, and
all other throbs of life,
sounded through their
language without inhibition.
First published in The Literary...
Continue reading...