You dive into the squawk of interference
ricocheting off the walls of the echo chamber
overlapping voices, coherency chopped and wadded
into cacophony, speech scrambled rising in pitch
and volume before finally flattening out
into a sea of static.
A mesh of text ensnares drifting ideas garbled
into a slurry of glossolalia. Do you choose
to add to the torrent with your babble,
or do you paddle through it with your lips
shut tightly, listening for a sound that floats
gently through the tumult, for a voice
that clearly enunciates a single shining sentence
that cuts like a silver fish
gliding through the current?