Bilbus The Babbler
The Cankerous Chatterer
Bilbus was a bulbous babbler.
An attention dragger who tended to sag any poor soul he grappled.
When his creaking mouth would quiver, only a tedious tale he’d deliver.
Bilbus reveled when he crooned and careened over the quiet, timid pedestrian victim.
He couldn’t hold an attention span, but he knew how to pick them.
He’d creep and crawl and slide across welcoming walls and wholesome halls.
He’d ask for a moment of time but then devour it all.
Smiles turned to tears under Bilbus’ agonizing jeer.
Patience broke down as this bulbous man went to town.
They’d try to escape, with fake compliments and smiles, but Bilbus knew the food he chewed and he took his time to swallow their ears and digest their minds.
Bilbus would pick his premeditated hooks with a wicked glee, no consideration for the harm of his yapping spree.
Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Hours even to days.
Few could escape Bilbus’ gluttonous gaze.
He grew fat on their troubled gestures and worried looks, savoring every bite from the gasps he took.
He growled and moaned when his sights were set. Appearing soon to deliver unwelcomed regret.
For strangers smiled and shook his hand with love, but after Bilbus was done their open hands turned to fists and their embraces mutated to violent shoves.
“Let us go, leave us be”, they desperately cried out in pain—suffocating under his mouthy gaze.
He never relented until his cords grew tired, giving these weary folk their chance to become inspired.
They ran. They hid.
They pushed. They split.
The man only laughed, his wicked hole of a soul reaching its goal.
Bilbus, The Babbler, collecting his toll.
A cankerous chatterer, a gabbering calamiter.
A blabbering pit.
If you enjoyed this poem, you might also enjoy my previous mischievous and petty tale…