Conversations That Will Never Happen

Dominate my dim imagination.
Bland inanities, half-clever wrappings
Ornament long-winded explanations,
In which I win by virtue of vices,
Ripostes and bon mots, wisecracks and comebacks,
All the tired rhetorical devices,
Uninterrupted catchphrases, thumb-tacked
Neocortical cork-board announcements,
Cartoons of unlikely interactions,
Caricatured opponents, arrant nonsense,
Hazy daydreamed hindsight satisfactions.
Aloud I say nothing. The sky, dove-grey,
Comes down for crumbs. I have nothing to say.