These woman talk incessantly.
One with a voice like a needle,
The other a wandering eye.

The first complains loudly
to the second
that her mother's gone to Arkansas,
and her sister's coming back.
I'm unable to tell, from the tone
of voice, which bothers
her more.

The two of them together
are a miserable duet of complaints.
They chatter together like sick finches,
and there are moments when I am unsure
that they hear each other at all.

These women are whiny and small,
frumpy, mismatched and apparently colorblind.
Old women look out from their eyes,
they are shrews before their time.

They are annoying, like a fly
or a wasp with a grudge.
There is no escaping from their voices,
though I've sunk as far into my
chair as it will allow.
Just before I lose it completely
the teacher appears,
and the two become silent as stones.

AcB 5.20.00