freewrite: i sound my barbaric yawp

Like Peter Pan in a temper tantrum...

my son sounds his barbaric yawp day and night. he is finding his voice, his voice which cries and snuffles and yells and mutters and hums and chants. “oooooouuuu” he says to his sock monkey. “aaahh” he yips at our dog. “ohh ohh ohh” he intones toward a blank spot on the wall. to the sock i’ve finally finished knitting for him, a colorful ribbon of babble. not often the high-pitched siren of danger that cuts through the universe and through my feral body. just the range and waves of a boy finding ways to communicate how tough it is to coordinate all of the hundreds of muscles in his human body, to process the infinite sensory details that bombard him through five distinct, demanding senses. he is dealing with a tooth that is trying, gas that is trying, a voice that is trying to break through. he wants so badly to stand on his own two feet that he will complain without cease until i hold him there. trying to evolve from amoeba to primate to 21st century homo proteus. the intensity increases until his whole body begins to quiver with frustration, rage, a sense of betrayal. my thoughts are scattered with each of his rattling breaths, focus shot, shattered. i am crumbling –

and so i thrust my breast into his mouth. a few minutes of peace.


2 thoughts on “freewrite: i sound my barbaric yawp

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