Talking To Hear Yourself Talk

This poem first appeared on www.gwallison.com. It was written after I suffered many hours of listening to some self-absorbed woman drone on and on about her writing. Normally, I find this interesting; however, she took herself way to seriously. You would have thought that she was writing the Holy Bible or something! I say hours, but it wasn't in one sitting. It was over a couple of days. Finally, I couldn't take it, but I couldn't snap and tear into her either. That just wouldn't have been a nice thing to do. After all, who am I to tell someone that they're full of crap when it comes to their art? I could be the one full of crap!

Anyway, here's a curse poem for all to enjoy. Apply where necessary.

Literary poetic
vomit spews
violently from
the leather
faced lady's
mouth.
Stinging bitterness
eats away
the enamel
of her already
piss stained
teeth.
Eyes close
Teeth grind
Ears turn
down to the
ground.
"Why me?"
they asked.
"Why not?"
says she.
She's a verbal
enema that
strong arms you
to wish you
never heard
language.