Babbling Voices
( Gray type is a him or her; black is a companion. )
Babbling voices of Beau Bridges
Yah, babble through my mind all the time.
Making fun or do ya really hear too?
Fun of? Not me. Listen to this seventh crossing.
Who built them anyway?
Kay the trail lady. Hauled in on backpack cut to size.
Wow, must have been quite a feat. Who’s Kay anyway?
Someone a bit like you, well maybe a bit nicer.
What do you mean “nicer?” Should I be insulted?
Heck no! You are Kay and then some.
Oh; that’s nice. Didn’t know you though of me like that?
Well, don’t let words go to your head. Here’s a hug.
Oooh, here’s a smooch for you.
Because you’ll hike on moment’s notice,
don’t bitch much, even when I’m being an ass,
and will buy the pizza and beer, a movie, tonight
Hey, wait one babbling brook second. I bought last.
Speaking of last, those two surely looked flat.
Jobs gone overseas; have to hang a while at home. Sucks.
Least they got a place.
Without a year’s board in hand, home is not an option.
Speaking of, still sort of looking at houses.
Not that place down the mountain?
Why not? Just right for you and me.
Poem by a friend of the Mt. Tom Range.