Sesquipedalian
does he even know
of which he speaks;
rattling on, it seems for weeks.
words he deems so slick.
never cutting to the quick.
on and on with endless chatter
not unlike the mad, mad hatter
(though even he had more sanity)
words on words
long and slow
words from where
God only knows
his breath escapes
from somewhere deep.
excuse me
if i fall asleep.
Copyright © Allen Beilschmidt Sr. | Year Posted 2019
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