Chobble

An’ I gets m’ pig ’ome, an’ ’e sims to turn out copital; ’e be sich a despret good cratcher, doan’t kip suckin’ an’ quiddlin’ at ’is fittle, but a chobbles it up like.

“Can’t get used to the damn things,” he says. “Easier to chobble away like this.”

[…] / Chaos ordains. But to what depth? Some demon / chobbles its rap-cassette, spits out / pathetic dreadlocks. […]

“If ya give me chobble, mon, I gwann hang up!” he threatens.

“Lissin mon, dunt chobble mi wit some ear-sey ‘bout wha yuh tink appen ta mi pickni an mi coac.”