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