Memory of Gibble Gabble Woman

There was a gibble gabble woman In our neighborhood when I was a child. She sung gossip the way Porters sling suitcases, trying to break people Her tongue was fast, and mean, and she had no shame We learned quickly she was fun to rile, and quick to spread joy When we got older we noticed she was near-sighted too. See? We would say, pointing, “There they are now.” We knew full well her eyes could not make out the people. But she took us at our lying words, and spread her powerful poisons We laughed that she could not see the end of her own finger, Yet she believed us; we relished giving her misinformation. It was our mission to send her on gossip-filled excursions During the summers of our 6th and 7th grade years. I am sad to say we could not twist her up or wind her the next year. She had died a pauper’s death. We were the only two at her funeral.