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Have you ever had a moment where you think, man, someone should really do something about this? Then you realize maybe that someone is you. Well, with the help of GoFundMe, you can change someone's life. You could start a GoFundMe to help a friend pay for school, fund that new community space, or help a local kid finally get to that national competition. I've seen this myself. Last year, a friend of mine launched a GoFundMe to help with medical bills after an unexpected surgery. It was incredible how fast the support rolled in. People want to help, they just need a way to do it. And GoFundMe makes it easy. So do you have a dream, a person or a cause in your life that could use some support? Don't wait for someone else to bring change. You can be the one who makes a difference. GoFundMe is the world's number one fundraising platform, trusted by over 200 million people. Start your GoFundMe today at gofundme.com that's gofundme.com gofundme.com.
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If your small business has a problem, you could say, just my luck. But you should say, like a good.
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Neighbor, State Farm is there and we'll.
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Help get you back in business. Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.
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I'm Maggie Smith, and this is the Slow Down. I remember growing up reading or hearing somewhere that some sets of twins have a special secret way to communicate. Twin speak. The siblings could talk without anyone around them knowing exactly what they were saying. That kind of intimacy and privacy seemed like a superpower, like invisibility or being able to fly. Thinking about it now, I'm not sure how I even heard of twinspeak. Was it something from a movie or a book I'd read? Was that concept even real? So I looked it up, and sure enough, it is a thing. The term is cryptophagia, from the Greek crypto, meaning secret, and phagia, meaning speech. Nancy Siegel, director of the Twin Studies center at Cal State Fullerton, writes that based on available studies, it is safe to say that about 40% of twin toddlers engage in some form of twinspeak or cryptophagia. I grew up with two younger sisters, and we were all close in age. While we didn't share a language no one else understood, there were plenty of inside jokes and anecdotes between us, bits we'd do, and some we still do. In that sense, maybe every family has a secret language. And when I say family, I mean that broadly defined chosen family too. People who are part of your community. In our house, my kids and I have plenty of private jokes and stories we refer to with a word or phrase, a kind of shorthand only we understand. I think my kids have their own too, without me, things they talk and joke about, just the two of them. It's not twinspeak, but that kind of intimacy still seems like a superpower to me. Poetry can be a kind of secret language, too, a way of saying the unsayable, a way of articulating experiences or ideas that are hard to wrap our minds around. Sharing poems with others the way we share poems on this show is a way of inviting other people into an intimate conversation. Today's poem is one I've carried around in my mind for years, one whose language I flash to instinctively when I see a flock of birds, especially a murmuration of starlings. I think of the phrase never ending birds, a phrase coined not by the speaker of this poem, but by the speaker's child. Never Ending Birds by David Baker that's us pointing to the clouds. Those are clouds of birds. Now we see one whole cloud of birds. There we are pointing out the car windows. October gray, blue, white oleo of birds, never ending birds. You called the first time years we say it the three of us, any two of us, one of those just endearments, apt Clarity's kiss on the lips of hope. I have another house. Now you have two. That's us pointing with our delible whorls into the far away, the true born blue, white unfeathering cloud of another year, another sheet of their never ending. There's your mother wedding back, your wild curl. I'm your father. That's us three pointing up. Dear girl, they will not. It's we who do End. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram @downdownshow and bluesky.downdownshow.org the slowdown is written by me, Maggie Smith. Our lead producer is Micah Kielbon, and our associate producer is Maria Wurtel. Our music is composed by Kyle Andrews, engineering by Derek Ramirez. Our editor is Joanne Griffith. Additional production help by Susannah Sharpless, Cece Lucas, Marcel Malikibu, and Lauren Humpert. Our executives in charge are Chandra Cavati and Mark Crowley. Maggie here, host of the Slowdown. Listening to and reading poetry helps us find our footing in an uncertain world, especially during challenging times. You can help keep these moments of poetry and reflection going by making a gift today. Visit slowdownshow.org donate.
Theme:
In this episode of The Slowdown, host Maggie Smith reflects on the concept of private, intimate communication within families and communities—be it through “twinspeak” or the secret shorthand of shared experiences—and draws a parallel to how poetry serves as its own secret language. The episode culminates in a reading and contemplation of David Baker’s poem “Never-ending Birds,” exploring how language can encapsulate familial love, memory, and the inevitable passage of time.
“Today’s poem is one I’ve carried around in my mind for years, one whose language I flash to instinctively when I see a flock of birds, especially a murmuration of starlings. I think of the phrase ‘never ending birds,’ a phrase coined not by the speaker of this poem, but by the speaker’s child.” (05:18)
Poem Excerpt read by Maggie Smith:
“That’s us pointing to the clouds.
Those are clouds of birds.”
…
“October gray, blue, white oleo of birds,
never ending birds.
You called the first time years
we say it the three of us, any two of us,
one of those just endearments, apt
Clarity’s kiss on the lips of hope.
I have another house. Now you have two.
That’s us pointing with our delible whorls
into the far away, the true born blue, white unfeathering cloud
of another year, another sheet of their never ending.
There’s your mother wedding back, your wild curl.
I’m your father. That’s us three pointing up.
Dear girl,
they will not. It’s we who do
End.”
“In that sense, maybe every family has a secret language.” —Maggie Smith (03:42)
“Poetry can be a kind of secret language, too, a way of saying the unsayable, a way of articulating experiences or ideas that are hard to wrap our minds around.” —Maggie Smith (04:38)
“Dear girl, they will not. It's we who do end.” —David Baker, read by Maggie Smith (07:13)
Maggie Smith thoughtfully explores the idea of private languages—whether the literal “twinspeak” between some siblings, the shorthand shared among family or chosen community, or the artful secret language of poetry. She suggests that these codes of connection are “like a superpower,” imbuing ordinary life with meaning and intimacy. Through the reading of David Baker’s “Never-ending Birds,” she invites listeners to reflect on how simple phrases and shared attention anchor us to each other and to moments both fleeting and eternal. The poem’s moving exploration of family, memory, and the passage of time resonates as a testimonial to the enduring power of language—both public and deeply personal.