FILLING THE AIR Blogged Feb 13, 2023
H. W. Bryce
They arrive early, hate being late,
They barge through the door talking.
They fill the air with their words,
Including clusters of empty verbs,
And basketsful of personal nouns.
They make statements and announce
Items of non-news,
Profess to have suffered the blues,
And they fill the air with their own
Laughter
Especially to their own stale jokes
And no other words can
penetrate the fog
They ignore this clog.
They eat all thesnacks,
They eat up the meal
They claim the bottle
They brought is the
Best of the deal, then
They wheel on their heel
And talk into the night
Filling the air
With their words, which
Fly off to the sky like
Small little birds into the
Night, leaving hardly
A memory behind.
…and then they leave,
Like emperors of speech,
With flowing capes of
Synonyms and metaphors
Falling as of snowflakes
Dissolving without meaning,
And no one any the wiser
For the event.
They form into word clouds,
Rain down interpretations,
Throw wordy bric-a-bracs, weeeep,
Maintain they should be kept.
Changing cloud formations,
They sprinkle confidence
Like cinnamon on pumpkin pie
Claiming there iss no right
Only wrong, this cloud imitates
A gong
And then they are
gone
leaving words still floating
in the air and a babble of voices
dead on the ground
!!!
Image by narciso1 from Pixabay
