zzz … oops. fell asleep eating pizza with mozzarella in a palazzo by the piazza, below the outdoor mezzanine on the terazzo by the jacuzzi, listening to jazz, guzzling a big fizzy drink with a swizzle, like through a nozzle. head a little muzzy. a little fuzzy. miles davis, what a whizz. what a whizzbang! dazzles me! bedazzles me! jazzbo! huzzah! razzamatazz! so snazzy. no razzberries from this fan! but what a spazz i am. not scuzzy, just always in a tizzy, abuzz, jazzed, bumfuzzled, then fizzling out … like now. the drink did it, not my fault. i awake to be razzed by my puzzled spouse, circling like a buzzard above me, with her quizzical expression, frazzled by my behavior, her hair frizzy, she’s ready with a blizzard of grizzly scolds, or she’ll drizzle them, and her a chazzan and then a hazzan! treats me like a zyzzyan. can’t muzzle her or nuzzle her. zzz.

for Stream of Consciousness Saturday

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