Last night, I heard that my voice
was too bland and robotic, too indistinct,
meaningless, monotone waves,
shattered stages, broken, bladed,
soft sounds, and flowery flights,
unrecognizable dimensions, floating
equations and mazes, squared sentences
stained and flamed, crammed and jammed,
saw slammed and offbeat, flayed and decayed,
drunken, sunken, tumbling in twirling
whirlwinds.