whose voice outside
this early?  next door’s
ray, upstairs jeff, or someone
different?

not one i recognize
right away.  it’s spanish,
now i can tell.  it’s not very
energetic.  it’s a little slurred.
it’s tired.  it rises only to fall again
quickly.

i could say it sounds tender,
depressed, resigned:  no, it’s just uneven.
slows down, climbs in volume,
hesitates, fades, rushes, stalls.

what it sounds like to me is nothing
without knowing the words,
which i cannot focus on right now

as i have looked down
and for the first time
there as promised just two weeks ago
there’s more than a little blood on my sheet,
right where i have been lying.

i need to take someone
into immediate confidence, no matter
how much i may slur, no matter how hard it is to control
my voice.  i need someone to listen to me.
i need someone to listen to me right now,
this early, no matter how i ramble, stop, start,
talk out loud, hesitate, reach out, withdraw,
seek in vain for the company
of those who will care.