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