Seated face-forward. And staring.
A trustworthy talking head behind a lectern
asking this of the name Kathy Chattle:
In what ways is this a play-on-words?
One you said: “Women are chatty.”
Notably not in agreement, I smile
but remain quite all the while,
a slave to my superior self.
Another you, not listening,
engrossed in a note, not notes-
a friend, presumably in cyberspace.
And again, yet another removed,
pretending behind a screen,
seeking more playful entertainment.
In silence I sit still, nodding it off.
Hearing others voice this about that-
hardly even entitled to that.
All this nonsense-
in an effort to find some sense.