Monday, June 2, 2014

Small talk


Clack clack clack the tongues run on
will it ever cease?
Endless broadcasts of everything
everyone
ever thought
to think.
Eardrums resonate with the thrum,
the droning hum.
I only wish
they could blink
as well.
Words on words on wordy words,
missiles seeking minds,
aimed at attention,
crushed by perception.
Do their masters ever wonder,
I wonder,
is there anything they say,
utter, mutter,
that has not been said
a thousand times before?