Blatherskite Poem by Philo Yan
Blatherskite
He speaks in a whisper
He rambles and pauses, long
I never seem to catch
the words he strings along
It spills out rapid
But his lips hardly move
in an unconscious habit
I wish he choose to behoove
from a long winded state
He might then get into groove
The more I listen the more I can't wait
to make an exit and a quick escape!
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8/6/2026 11:29:42 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
