The horrors of small talk

Small talk

The horrors of small talk

Eat away right through me,

Like acid

I feel it dissolving away

My individuality and self-respect


The petty small talk

How pointless and feeble

And pathetic

Like a snake without fangs

a lion without claws


The plastic small talk

About things that don’t matter

Pulls me down

Into the black-hole vortex,

Where I scream:

“I am more than this!”


This colourless, tasteless, insipid small talk

How it saps my energy.

Like a bee sapping nectar,

and turns me into a clone:

Boring, repetitive and barely alive.


I sit at the restaurant table

A corpse-half dead,

Barely there and they ask me:

“Do you like Thai?”

“Is that all you can do!?” I want to scream

“There’s a really nice Thai near my home” somebody say’s

“Oh really!” I hear somebody exclaim

“There’s one near my home too”

“And mine”

“And mine!” chime in two others

oh god, I want to die, do I really care?


Small talk –

pointless, feeble and luke-warm

Like a nice guy – that women never feel attraction for.

Imprisoned in a cell of small talk

I am dissolving

Where have all the interesting people gone?

I am falling into a dark pit

Of small talk

Please save me!

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