Poetry: Alphabet Soup (Mimicry as a Second Language)

Alphabet Soup (Mimicry as a Second Language)
Fatima Lim-Wilson

Angel of letters, feed me,
Beat your wings till I remember
Cardboard cut-outs of ABCs. Why
Does my memory hobble, lift
Empty pails from an English castle's dark well?
Fill me with the welter of vowels,
Googol of consonants, tender French
Hearts, dead Latin roots from where words grow,
Insidiously. My tongue smokes, a
Joss stick trailing mixed signals. What
Keeps me from balancing a silver spoon
Locked in my mouth? An echo.
Mother humming her made-up melodies. She
Nudges me to move my lips with hers.
Old wives rustle, whisper tales in my ears.
Palimpset of long-tailed syllables.
Quick darting wings of a wind-seeking accent.
Run, I must rend the tent of Thesaurus.
Slash away till I warble, silvery voiced with a cut
Tongue. I grow, a hunchback, trailing my master,
Unctuous and anxious. Sweet, mute angel, cast your
Veil over me to muffle my voice of broken glass.
With your flaming sword, make me, with a bloody
X to form my lips into singing, always, heartfelt
Yes. Spewing baubles, I became the favored one. In this
Zoo of sycophants, I'm the parrot who's almost human.

The first letter of each line is italicized.
What does this poem mean? What is the theme? Annotations please? I really don't understand. Tone? Imagery? Paradox (especially in the last four lines)? All I know is that it has something to do with language and the diaspora. Please help me!