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which will be appearing on my blog just as soon as my flatmate, who is the subject, has left Baiyin. Chatterbox He mutters and mumbles, and stutters and grumbles, in a voce that’s constantly sotto. He sings lyrics from songs where he gets the words wrong “Don’t draw breath”, it would seem, is his motto Don’t try to attend him, for it will not offend him if the only ears listening are his Without being brutal responding is futile a monologue’s all that it is. The conventional view that it takes at least two to converse, is not one that he holds. So he speaks, then replies and agrees or denies, debates with himself, even scolds. The heart of the matter’s that all of his chatter’s on topics he finds fascinating: all the thing’s that he’s seen and the places he’s been and himself (well that goes without stating) In his eyes there’s the gleam of self-love and esteem for the wisdom he spreads all around and when given the choice it’s his own constant voice that’s always the one preferred sound. Don’t fret, it’s OK the things he finds to say are a pleasure that you can forego Simply smile and then nod and turn up the i-pod. It’s unlikely that he’ll even know. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. | ||
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Oh, Bob, I love it! Usually your poems don't rhyme this much, right? It surely describes what you've talked about with your flatmate (we'd say "roommate"). | |||
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I see flatmate and roommate as being different things. I had a roommate when I was in college. We shared a room - two chairs, two desks, two bookcases, two beds one room. With a flatmate we share an apartment - one living room, one kitchen, one bathroom, two bedrooms -five rooms. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. | |||
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Not exactly. It describes what HE'S talked about and HOW HE's talked while the rest of us fail to get a word past his constant stream of self-absorbed nonsense. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. | |||
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Ah. Well, we just say "roommate" either way. We don't have "apartment mates." | |||
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Congrats, Bob, you have nicely captured the "crashing bore' in verse. As a sometime poet (& avid student of poetry), I like your choice of singsongy meter & rhymed lines, reflecting the smug and predictable pratings of your subject, LOL! | |||
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