Sunday, August 28, 2011

A Dripping Mouth

Yet he speaks a deluge of words
Fumbling at times, yet not pausing
Racing, so it seems
To the beginning of another from there

And yet the others wonder
The truth, even the semblance of it
For in the multitude of words
Untruth is wont to abound

But yet he propounds;
Theory heaped on theory
Of fallacious and incomprehensible tales
Leaving the others' ears filled with jargons

And yet they pretend; feigning interest
Till the ears become achey
And with stylish gymnastic display they leave
Now he is left alone, doing dialogue by himself

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