he heard voices inside his head

which was awright by him

they jabbered incessantly at his elbows knees limners climbing over each other making spectacles of themselves to be heard and never hearing his Shaddup! over their din too consumed too much at their grinding gears at stabbing sharp sticks into others eyes to ever suffer any voice other than their own

 

it was a riotous pellmell inside his skull

but in there a long ways off across the vault there seemed to be an exit door a distant glow dullred and marred which he was unable to read to be sure

   

he tried to reach it once

                                       put his head down suffered the throbbing mob had taken a dead bead on it but soon exhausted having to push and shove his way to where he was his voice gone quit from crazylong strings of guttural Excuse me excuse mes ignored  then  mebbe   mebbe    a third of the way through the clusterfuck he looked up again and found it moved to his left

 

perhaps he was jostled off his tack

he didnt think so  his direction was usually unerring a compass fixed by the iron in his heart and blood

retreating to the dais it continued to beckon him there

sometimes blinking to remind him of its presence though most of the time it burned like a dull lit cigar against a purplish dusk of hope

occasionally their cries and voices irritated him

incensed him

             occasionally

 

but most of the time  irrationally  they soothed him

again  which was awright by him

because their seething their raucous blackbird calling disallowed  and drowned out those voices from without  who also tried to influence him catch his ear manipulate his thinking  direct his pen

Whasdatdeysay   Ah Too many cooks spoil the   stew slumgullion NAH WRONG  thebroth Ah  spoil the broth

when he finally steps up to the convened court(scullions dropped scurried the fuck out of the way) hed snap up a yapper by the scruff of its neck its yoke or collar snatch it by a leg holding it upside down it howling without it realising the part it was to play was a part greater than the whole which remained unscathed

hed transcribe its gibberish

sometimes he grabbed a self-conscious windbag who went on and on self-important self-aggrandizing(but it takes all types  he was a patient man)

sometimes he grabbed one who had been screaming for so long their voice scarcely remained  a dry croaker  it understood its vocal cords were tenuous  so in its head it distilled its arguments thoughts and tossing out word by painful word it pointed to its accrued mosaic  every bit small and precise  exactly as it meant them

by this painstaking jurist selection he abraded and obscured those voices without  who then had to be satisfied by those who willingly willfully listened

the voices without moved off his mark off his porch and continued down the broad well-maintained avenue that crossed before his house

maybe one listened and might find their way through the mass to the dull exit beacon  presumably a fire door  and go through it into some other atmosphere or entry

                                      mebbe

mebbe not

          

1049, Thursday,  10  3. 16

0131,  Saturday,  12  3. 16