The Yakrobat

A tumbling contortion of yammering,
Pounded in my ear like jack-hammering,
Twirling inane dialogue into the phone,
About people and events, all unknown,
All for the point of one trip to the mall,
Which no one cared to hear about at all.

There are never points of interruption,
To comment, pause or give interjection,
Even if topics twist or are contorted,
Details must be faithfully reported,
Regardless if grunts or uh-huhs are lacking,
The show drags on like a huckster's yacking.

Soon the earpiece is placed on the phone book,
Once stories take to a loftier rook,
Swung into pairs and tripled maneuvers,
Name dropping wealthy shakers and movers,
Along with embellishments on high wired props,
Trapezing with coupon deals that won't stop.

Then came swinging questions for gossip's sake,
There's no safety net, make no mistake,
Craftily concealed as genuine concern,
Hoops of fire to fly through but you'll get burned,
If you join this side show, all will soon hear,
The yakrobat's added a brand new tier.

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