i sadduceen it
                                                            lass night n

                                                            he warnt white

            might
                        a bean dert
                                                er mud
                                                looked all haggard
                                                                                    not
                                                                                                like its the reel

                                                                                                                        son a gawd
                                                                                    tryin all hard ta breeve
                                                n wild with jesture
                        but it warnt
right i says
                                                            warnt right

                                                    fact more like spic or A
                                                            rab n he werent
                                                            sayin bless
                                                ye n teck this cup n
                                                            setera

                                                            he were swet bullit n
                                                 speakin weird tongue

                                                     jes coverd all over
                                                            in half live
                                                     crusted blud reed
                                                            spittin n shakin
                                                 tears too            blood read

                                                  n stench made me
                                                            wake
                                                            weak n
                                                                                    ill

__

In this poem and others like it, I am interested in the face that my readers attach to the "voice" of my speakers. In some ways, the act of ventriloquizing these speakers is like being in a dream of sounds.