A Windbag's Warning Poem by Richard Jarboe

A Windbag's Warning



Don't get me started
I can talk landscape all night long;
Then I can branch out all day long.
I'm a windbag.

In my brain there are compartments,
I can package history 'til dawn,
Then I cram it inside departments,
Where one could wonder why one were born,
A windbag.

Don't get me started,
About trouble in vain,
When I go heavy windbag,
I go hurricane.

Some words fly around the room,
Like feathers in a pillow fight,
And even if I get real good and drunk,
I can still slur all through the night,
Pay attention! Wake up! !
I'm a windbag.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: people
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
people who can't stop talking
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