Hubert Jacoozi had verbal diarrhoea,
He would trap people to talk in a manner most queer.
He never exhausted his stock of bilge and baloney,
Nattering and chattering like a big phoney.
He could, and did, incessantly talk,
The other participant could not even squawk
Interlocution, he was always ready to expound,
On just about any subject that he found.
He used many “umms” and “errs” to keep the conversation flowing
These “word whiskers” one unconsciously used without knowing.
On this and that he would remonstrate,
If you spotted him, and didn’t run, it was just too late.

Yes, Hubert was dangerously verbose no doubt,
He was a highly insensitive talkative lout.
His large mouth was constantly yapping,
The strength of his listener very fast sapping.
Yabbering, babbling, unrelenting uttering,
At an excruciating tone, never just muttering.
At just about everything he would take a swipe,
In a manner consisting of unadulterated tripe,
You look for an avenue that may offer escape,
But not one does exist, without a magician’s cape.

Not only was Hubert an incessant squawker,
But also had the habit of being a Close Talker!
Which meant that viscous drops of spittle,
Would fly onto the listener’s face to belittle,
His victims sensibilities even more.
Yes, Hubert was dirty as well as a bore,
Sometimes, after he’d been eating peanut brittle,
New dimensions were given to his spittle.
Tiny fragments of peanuts and toffee,
(And perhaps even some dregs of coffee).
Would ricochet off the other’s glasses,
As Hubert, his own obnoxiousness surpasses.

Now, should the listener ever get a go,
Hubert would constantly say, “I know!”
Just to demonstrate exactly what tripe,
The other party’s conversation was ripe,
To be steadfastly ignored,
If Hubert wasn’t speaking, all should be bored.
It came to be that many would insist,
That there would be no further conversation unless he became a ventriloquist.