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Poem 96: A Chatterbox

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A Chatterbox


I’m told I talk like a duck quacking.

I’m told I’m incapable of shutting up.

I’m asked if I ever stop my yakking.

My mouth is like a bottomless cup,


of words spilling out into the day.

People are shocked by my vocabulary.

I think there’s no other way:

that I must have gone and read the whole library.


I talk in class, at work, at home.

At school I got kicked out of class.

What I have to say would fill a tome

and knock you on your ass.


I talk to myself when no one’s around

and I can’t get anyone on my phone.

I talk most people into the ground

and can’t amuse myself when I’m alone.


I feel at my best when I’m telling

something to whoever’s next to me.

Sometimes I get so excited I’m yelling.

Talking makes me feel happy and free.


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