Gift of Tongues

I love my apartment. 

I do not love its walls. 

She is an African Grey Parrot who never learned any words. 

Perhaps she does have words, perhaps she speaks in a language that only her tribe understands. 

“SQUAAAAAAK”

By this she means, “where the fuck is dinner”

“SQUAAAAAAK”  

This one means, “Can you believe they elected a black man for president? Everything’s gone to hell since then”

“SQUAAAAAAK”  

This one is special. It means “It’s your mother’s birthday tomorrow, did you get her anything, you thoughtless, worthless son? Also, I’m still holding a grudge about that time you gave me a gift card for my birthday 9 years ago.” 

“SQWWRRRAAAAAAAAKK!” 

“Where the fuck did you put MY METFORMIN YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH I TOLD YOU NOT TO MESS WITH MY MEDICINE AND CIGARETTES!!!” is what she means. 

I am working from home. 

The silence is curated for the tasks at hand. 

“Aaaaaaaaahhh!!”

“Oooooooowww!!” 

My neighbors are having rough sex.  

At least one of them is enjoying it tremendously. 

“Oooooow! Oooooow! Ooooooooooowww!” 

I listen closer. 

This is not sex. 

I am given the Biblical gift of tongues. 

“Ooooowwww!” 

By this, he means, “Where are my people?”

“Ooooowww Ooooowwww owww!” 

 By this he means, “How did I get here? What did I do to deserve  this?” 

“Ooooooooooowwwwww!” 

This one means, “I do not believe in a kind, loving, all knowing God anymore. My existence denies that such a deity exists.”

“ooooooooOOOOOOooooooohhhhh”. This one really affected me:  “If there were a God, I would pray my days to end soon, but no such power or grace exists, not even the grace of free will, of being able to end my own suffering. May a parasite or a car or perhaps even a small house fire take me sooner than later”. 

He is their new puppy.

“Gift of Tongues” by Paul Duane