The earliest of these poems is from about 1980, the most recent from today (as I write this & if we count a chunk edit). It doesn't matter. Chronology is narrative, intended or not, but its truth is essentially statistical.
The number 911 has three meanings for me. The first is the anxiety I've felt for most of my life that I would stutter into a total word blockage while trying to report an emergency on the phone.
The search for articulate speech.
The second is 91.1 FM, the frequency of radio station WFMU in the New York City area. Becoming articulate.
The third is, of course, the demonic kairos of September 11, 2001; a moment in time & space that, for all of its shock, horror & tragedy, briefly opened the bab-ili "Gate of God," which then closed, another terrible prophecy unheeded.
Powers, principalities, & the Tower of Babylon.