The Talkers

Look at him.
Yes him.
It’s very rarely her.
He talks and talks
and talks and talks.
The people listen and sleep.
They listen and fume.
They listen and read.
They listen and get blessed.

It’s the centre.
It’s never missed
rarely shortened
and quite often
the wrong wind.

It’s based on a library
one that I love
that I get lost in
that I find hard.

And yet this talk
often makes me despair
for I do love the talkers
even though funny voices
squeak and boom from them.

This is bovine gold
for the new nomads
helped across with
wireless but receivers
that are tiring.

the bards realised
their own folly
and sang of it
but when will
the Talkers?

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