Poem: Going Mad Might Be Like A Bad Eight Track Tape Deck

By Jack Brummet

You're not sure you hear the faint overtones

Layered under the music like static in a skipping signal

From a distant 50,000 watt radio station.
It's subtle at first, like music from another room.

Soon it becomes more than an echo
And you hear two songs at once

As the azimuth of an 8-track head becomes misadjusted
And adjacent tracks  bleed into the signal.

Hearing voices must be like that.
You brush it aside at first, doubting your own ears.

When it emerges with authority,
You can’t tell which voice is real

And which voice is a doppleganger.
Soon, bleedthrough takes precedence.

You can no longer differentiate

Between Jiminy Cricket’s voice and the one ordering you

To leave your house at 2 A.M. to dice up

The first luckless person to cross your path.

         ---o0o---