Glossolalia - Vic Chesnutt

I am a stranger

Lurking alone in my own vicious wilderness

While the meat in my chest

Squeezes and teases a hulking hunger

Groping in motion

Balance is but a shimmering notion

And lurching compelled

My soul in its special hell of wet mortal limits

Perpetually thirsting

But I bask in a beautiful byproduct

From twisting torque of dichotomy

What my eyes do see

In this spilling, dead wicked desert

It dances

Born of babble

Is now raison d’etre for the rabble

I sing my soul

With tongue

A sword in the sunlight

Thrashing and flashing

Glossolalia