they live

in the air vents

i hear them

–

there

whispered ramblings

distorted muttering

inchoherent

mumbling

–

are they plotting

–

vying to descend

in the dead of night

to pierce my larynx

enter

through the gash

speak

through my teeth

–

can we share this husk

until it decays

bloating and rotting in

dull suburbia

–

what do they seek