POEM: Hypnagogic Voices

I hear voices --
a cold burble of voices --

too dim and distant
to extract meaning,

too inexplicable not
to inject a rationale,

or a slate of reasons:
-the impulse 
toward void filling

minds despise quiet,
filling it with 
puzzling prattle,
and making any 
hash of sound
into cryptic natter,

until sleep descends