the mess-age
is the medium

to be heard as just voice
one
must shatter,
shapeshift into
many

coalesce
then dissolve

before the sum
of the parts
can be tallied
and captioned
pasteurised
homogenised
in sterile packaging
for consumption

profiteers and peddlers, beware
however much you rub,
the spirit wasn’t bottled
and the gold in your vault
is as cold and dead
as you.