Chatterbox

If there were a device
To measure words per minute spoken
Even an auctioneer
Could not beat him for a day
He was just sick with words
And someone else had to listen
Or repetition began
And no one wanted that
When I neared the point
Of cutting off my ears
Like Van Gough
To end the sound
I decided that of all the senses
If I had to choose one to lose
It must be hearing
Although usually it was my last choice
Eyes are nice
But you know people from their heart
Touch is nice
But how something feels doesn’t define it
Taste is wonderful
But how food works would remain the same
And smelling a woman’s perfume intoxicates me
Yet without it I would find something else
Always I have considered hearing most important
And it is my strongest sense
Perhaps that is why this chatter
That did seem to matter
Bothered me so