My thoughts get polluted in the short span
of time it takes them to run to my tongue.
Intent evaporates, I find myself
spewing banality with confidence.
Dubious sense of humour fails to land
a punch; I dodder past with a faux grin.
Finally it’s time to pass the baton
to another unwilling candidate.
I nod pleasantly as we continue
our dull charade of camaraderie.
Once upon a time being sociable
meant exchanging infrequent messages.
The small talk prattles on… I think about
the lost luxury of writing letters.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:29 PM UTC
My thoughts get polluted in the short span
of time it takes them to run to my tongue.
Intent evaporates, I find myself
spewing banality with confidence.
Dubious sense of humour fails to land
a punch; I dodder past with a faux grin.
Finally it’s time to pass the baton
to another unwilling candidate.
I nod pleasantly as we continue
our dull charade of camaraderie.
Once upon a time being sociable
meant exchanging infrequent messages.
The small talk prattles on… I think about
the lost luxury of writing letters.
NaPoWriMo Day 8
Poetry form: Blank Verse
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