“ok, everybody stop and listen up!”
“whew, thank goodness. i was about to toss my cookies.”
“i was going to toss my lunch.”
“i was going to…”
“ok, pipe down! we’ve got to pick a squad captain. anybody interested in the job?”
“i’ll toss my hat in the ring.”
“i’ve got a couple of names i’d like to toss off. guys who aren’t here.
“ok, name ’em. we’ll toss them around.”
“hey, wait a minute! are you ignoring me? i’m standing right here.”
“ok, we’re not tossing you out, but we’re also not tossing off all the others. what does everybody think?”
“it’s a toss up. they’re all the same.”
“not worth tossing ideas back and forth. just pick one.”
“except this clown here who should toss in the sponge.”
“yeah. toss in the towel.”
“you can’t just toss me aside! toss me a bone here!”
“ok. we’ll toss for it. heads you stay in the running, tails you don’t. i don’t really give a toss … and … you’re out … and you’ve got k.p., so head back to the cafeteria and start tossing the salads..”

for Stream of Consciousness Saturday

the future is now

“coffee, tea, or me?”
“i’m sorry. i mean, are you here to buy some coffee or tea, or for a taro reading in the back?”
“well, for coffee…”
“buy five pounds and the taro reading is free.”
“huh. ok, i’ll take five pounds.”
“you can choose the type later. let’s go back for the reading … there, sit … i’ll lay out the cards. hmm. i’m learning about important dates in history. wanna be one of them?”
“i said … the cards show that there is romance in your future … are you a time traveler? cause I see you in my future.”
“those cards … what are those pictures on them … they’re…”
“listen, honey … pay attention… my love for you is like diarrhea, i just can’t hold it in.”
“wait. i’m going to get sick?”
“for the love of … did you invent the airplane? because you seem wright for me.”
“wow. i have no idea what any of this means, but it sounds important.”
“it means you’re going to meet someone and have a … a romantic encounter.”
“what will she look like?”
“red hair.”
“like yours? how tall?”
“my height.”
“my weight.”
“what sign?”
“what sign do you want?”
“hopefully, pisces.”
“she’s a pisces.”
“wow. let me go pick out my coffee and get home in case she comes by.”

for Stream of Conciousness Saturday


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

claws and nails

bloody teeth and claws
everybody needs to eat
i get my nails done

for Stream of Consciousness Saturday


“ok, ladies, fan out.”
“i’m not a fan of this.”
“you’ve got a case of the fantods. it’ll be fantastic.”
“i don’t fancy our chances. aren’t we just fanning the flames?”
“you signed up. don’t be a fair-weather fan.”
“i’m worried it’s all going to hit the fan.”
“quit fanning the breeze and get to it, fancy pants. show them some fancy footwork.”
“fancy-schmancy. doing fandangos and fan-dances in front of all these lonely guys could cause a riot. I don’t fancy our chances.”
“that’s a fantasy. these aren’t fanatics, they’re fanboys.”
“they may start fantasizing.”
“if they touch your fanny, show them your fangs.”

for Stream of Consicousness Saturday


Before I begin, let me splurge on a spliff from my spleuchan, with some blow spliced in (splitting the difference on how high I get). Let me splay myself out on my bed (cushions on splatted wood), laptop resting on my spleen and splanchnic points south, sun shining through the potted spleenworts on my windowsill, both my splenius relaxed. I’ll splash some java into my cup with a splosh, big drops splodging with a splat the splooged splint on my leg. I’ll pop one of my splake-on-cracker snacks into my mouth. I’m still woozy from last night’s splore.

I want this stream of consciousness text to be splashy, splendid, splendorous. I want to splurge on words, not splutter in print. I want upbeat verbiage, not something splenetic and spleenish. It should conclude with a successful metaphorical splashdown for the reader, who stays metaphorically dry behind a metaphorical splashboard.

Uh oh. Splitting splintery splenium. Will write tomorrow.

For Stream of Consciousness Saturday

champ or chump

chic or cheesy
chilled or chafed
cheery chum or chagrined charlatan
charming chica or cheeky chit
charismatic chieftian or characterless churl
choir-boy child or cheating chap
chosen chairwoman or challenged chauvinist
chipper chancellor or chary chaperone
charitable character or chastising cheapskate
charging champion or chaotic chatterbox
chateaubriand or cheesburger
chess or checkers
change or changelessness
chocolate chickens or cheap cheeps
chop chewer or chow chomper

for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS)

current status

in deep cover.
not knee-deep,
in too deep.
took a deep dive
off the deep end.
now they’ll deep-six me
in the deep blue sea,
deep in the weeds – the seaweeds.

i’m not a deep thinker but
still waters run deep and
digging deep,
deep down,
i expected this.

my beauty is not just skin deep.
i have a deep knowledge of my job,
my loyalty runs deep.
but my past, once a deep, dark secret,
is now known to all, not just on deep background,
the facts discovered courtesy of my employer’s
deep pockets.

let me take a deep breath.
spare me your deepest sympathy.
my obit will be shallow.

for Stream of Consciousness Saturday

Beside You

sitting beside you i am beside myself
a black mark beside my name
which pales beside my past deeds
and is beside the point anyway
what with you beside yourself too
when i sidled up to you
…. and besides
i’m on your side
we’re on the same side
and i’ll meet you on the other side

for Stream of Consciousness Saturday


biosphere evolves
without judgment but we have
worn out our welcome

for Stream of Consciousness Saturday