Louse Letter

What should become of words
as memory
in an age of tedious documentation
where every plated meal is a rare event
that requires memorialization
in photography
as if a species
newly discovered
to be meticulously inked
in finest detail
by a Victorian naturalist
as he explores the world afar

Words are relegated
to accompaniment
a hasty thought
dashed off and disconnected
a trail of inconsequential cracker crumbs
leading back to home
another place, truly, yet
equally lost

How is the function of words
to cope as technology advances
and us, the word-users,
adapt to paradigm-shifting novelty

A disturbance is en route
soon to arrive
but to what it will be
I am as illiterate
as a million-year-old savanna ape
upright and getting there brain-wise
still, no wiser of what’s to come
than the lice inflicting him
their tiny chewing mouths
etching history into skin
with every bite
stories passed down
parasitic generation after
parasitic generation
a tale for the ages
for the eggs
the nits yet to be picked


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