What’s our pleasant ‘small talk’
but schlock while lolling?
Keeps humming, spiked by squawk
boorish & galling!
Seldom turns elevating
those leisurely oozings
of whiny ventilating
self-victimized musings
Mostly regurgitating
that not much worth saying
How tiresome, aggravating
much like brainless braying!
Small talk like cloying pies
whose flavor fading hasty
Expectations belies
beyond sugar, flour pasty
Inside hooey crumbly crust
gooey, gluey filling
for which lips & taste buds lust
rarely found fulfilling
Is not small talk a pie
over which we should cry ?