The Esthetic Apostle

February 2018

Dead Language & The Afterlife of Poems

by Frank Candeloro

I speak an ancient tongue
No one understands -
A tongue so dead
You can’t feel it in your mouth -
A language so dead
You can only see it
In the dark.

The Afterlife of Poems

Poems die when I write them.
I bury them in words.
Push the stone from my mouth -
Resurrect them!