Poem for a brother who tends to overtalk me

We’ve known each
Other for a
Short time
But it seems we’ve
Stuffed years into
That short space
He speaks of women, his
Military service,
Women, his health
Women…and women again
Takes 9-10 pills a
Day for as many
Sometimes we’ll speak
On politics or something
Heavier and his voice
Will rise
At times we’ll start speaking
At the exact same
And his voice will take
Off, leaving mine stuck
In a series of stutters
And false starts
Nothing false about
Him, neither teeth
Nor hair or pride
He doesn’t overtalk
Me by intention, he’s merely
Been talked over most of
His life
He’s a 57 year old black
Man from St. Louis who looks at his
Life and decries his lack
Of ambition
If I had a little more
Of this and a little more
Of that, he says
And I listen
And pour him a little more
And listen
Some more
And the birds outside
Also listen
And echo
His song
(c) 2010 Tony Robles

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