written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Friday 13 June 2014

I Hear Talk ....

12:30:00 Posted by Louise Barklam , , , 1 comment
With the theme for this week being "Eavesdropping", all I have had rattling around my head is the song "I Hear Talk ..." by Bucks Fizz.  It's a bit of an ear worm as I keep catching myself walking or pottering about singing it. Oh dear!

I try to make a point of NOT eavesdropping on people I know, as in the past, I have found myself being talked about in a not so complimentary manner. As they say, ignorance is bliss (in some cases anyway).

Strangers, however, are another matter. It can be highly amusing and scandalous to hear what he said/she said etc. Sitting in a cafe or other such public places are an ideal way to hear these juicy snippets of gossip and bitchiness, which can make you realise that you have a nice quiet existence without all that drama.


I Hear Talk ....

"I don't like her new hair colour!"
"Did you hear what they have done?"
"What was she thinking?"
"They don't care that they've done wrong!"

"She came home with ANOTHER Fella.
What do you think that THAT means?"
"Did you see what she was wearing?
Mutton dressed as lamb, it's quite obscene!"

"He's been playing round behind her back.
Poor cow, she doesn't know.
The tart that he's been seeing
Is the local bike, or so I'm told!"

"I hear that she's been refurbishing."
"Have you seen her new decor?
Looks like an explosion in a paint factory.
I dread stepping through the door!"

"I hit it hard the other weekend.
Got blitzed and pulled a bird.
For a dare, I bagged a fat one.
Kicked her out though before she was heard!"

"She said, he said he'd leave her!"
"Yeah, we've heard all that before!"
"I know. She's a fool and I told her so!"
"Do you think she'll settle the score?"



People are cruel. That's why I don't eavesdrop! Well, not intentionally anyway.  ;-)

Thanks for reading. x

1 comments:

Colin Daives said...

I heard about this poem from Simon's wife who said Donna, her hair dresser, was banging this bloke, her hubby don't know, well if he can't make her toes curl she's bound to found a 'real' man intshe, and she won't leave him, well she won't his money I mean. Anyhoo, listen to me fish-wifing it all up like a Queen Street gossip tran, she said read. So I did.