so much squawk and squall too many people echo the walls abrasive and i've no block but to ingest it wrappered and trapped in this room-without-imagination this is fusion a batter of coms and intel i cannot separate and rooms instrument clamps me pressioned still and inflates me like a berry my vision is expelled my teeth pop out my ears whine and whistle my pores fire out tiny dirt pellets and my friends duck for cover
all the bombast and sonic din that entered and all the gases combust from within I go from ‘surprising’ and ‘absurd’ to full on percussion and detonation
what did they do to deserve a friend like me ? it’ll be some time before they enjoy a good meal in company one without p.t.s.d. revulsion and (without a choice) in memory of me