Hung on a Psychosociolinguistic Scaffold

Babel Tower

Oh Language, where hast thou hid thyself?
Thy once-bright spires decline to dust.
The calm, well-reasoned flow of wisdom
a bygone memory. I’ll not trust
these tween-to-twenty-something’s prattle;
endless babble of self-absorption
centered in pleasure-maximizing:
narcissistic thought-abortion.
Dude – they’re SO not app’ed for language
used by dad ten years ago.
I’m totally DONE with their, like, verbiage
They’re all: Smartphone Teenage Show.
It’s just, like, TALKING  – without words
in language ghettos; texting proud…
Their lack of precision offends my brain –
They ought to be ashamed (out loud).

Vygotsky’s vaunted Z.P.D,
and Bakhtin’s heteroglossic crack
along with Roland Barthe’s pet parrot
Are SO like totally talking smack.

Más Repostería, por favor



I’m going to shamelessly self-promote for a while.

? ( you may ask)…
Well… if I don’t self-promote, who else will do it?
Therefore I will be re-posting original poems in the coming weeks
until I get tired of doing so.

As always, loyal and devoted connectees,
you have the RIGHT to be OFFENDED
(or bored).

 ☠ ☭