I hear voices in my head
I hear them sound like dead
people on Any Given Sunday
an ungracious abundance
of other peoples’ voices

I hear them most
when other people speak
loudness leaks from moving lips
to say words that make no sense
that say something else
the Politics of Experience
unfold me like some geometric inkblot

I see Batman
I see Batman
I see BATMAN

Did you hear that?

It sounded like Batman
like a Batarang
catching some villainous cape
like a car door closing
on a Great Escape

it sounded like
                     two people
competing for head space
the one being said
the one being meant
the silence in between them
speaks volumes to itself
No, please say that again
in a sonorous tone
it snores my inner demon
to groan behind an asinine
slumbering inside each line
wound with reservations grinding
our hero chopped off from loose lips
to fit in the caustic grimoire of actual fact

I am the Bat
I am the Bat
I am the Bat

I hear voices in my head
that sound like conversations
an unwilling participant am I
by virtue of presence, my
lips unlocked never seem
                       to speak enough
though lips move more gratefully
than these feet that just want to leave
this place, to never talk again
sit behind a screen
be pixelated, a thinly
gleaming monitor
of the fun facts lacking
in a lark-full repartee
I check up on myself
look up the words that I doubt
check my bruises
from roundhouse kicks
split lips bloodied with small talk
sweet silence is
to stay home and smoke

I should stop talking

Did you hear that?

and when they play like they don’t know
don’t let them go
make them stay
to tell us what
they meant to say
#againandagain
#againandagain

I hear voices

Did you say something?