Too long
to walk
to bike
to lie down
too light
daylight
days on end
hanging around
around and around
but, wait, I’m
indulging
in aimless
blabber
too much ogling
what I find
is a whole
different ***
the buds
are late
particularly the
young ones
too late
for a
blooming heart
too light
in vain
I look
to see
if I don’t
see my hand
anymore
too much water
the glass is
already full
too good
in good faith
the sun
spirits itself
away
too bad

A guy. Loves walking. Walks over to the municipal pool. Enters the water. And keeps walking.
Look, there’s that pool walker again.
Pool Walker does his first 25 meters.
Swat! Arm and leg hit him from behind.
Scram, I’m training for the Olympics.
****, you do this one more time. I’ll be limping.
Pool Walker does another 50.
Smack! His toe hits a spectre near the bottom.
Scoot! You broke my goggles, diver bubbled.
****! You just popped my bubble and now I’m treading glass.
Pool Walker is into his last 100.
Smash! His knee hits a soft object.
Srlsrlsrlsrlr! Goes drowning kid.
Shush! Now I’m walking on my hands to get you.
Pool Master approaches Pool Walker: Hey, Maestro, try swimming.
That’s what I do on Main street.

This guy had a sleeping problem. A friend told him about a man who pitched himself as the Sleep Savant. He had no followers, just told one and all he slept 3 hours during the day and 12 during the night.
The bad sleeper phoned him and said, can we talk?
Only over the phone, the Savant said.
Why so?
You see me, you won’t sleep at all.
So it’s your voice? You talk yourself to slumber?
Well, that must be it, because I never believed in my own advice.
Right, I heard it and I’ll see if it works.
A week later the bad sleeper phoned again.
You got anything else besides your voice? I still don’t sleep like a babe.
You’re asking for a technique? Go see a mechanic.
How about using your own voice, like I use mine.
You heard me twice now.
Ah, like in a movie?
A week later the bad sleeper phoned again.
Hello, I’m still in the woods, don’t know what to do.
Silence at the other end.
Are you there? Should I talk to you in your own voice?
Silence.
Well, here I go
He made a show of the Savant’s voice.
Silence.
But, no, a soft snoring sound came thru the speaker.
A week later the bad sleeper phoned again.
Well, it worked for you didn’t it? But not for me.
What next?
Right, you want some bad advice. Just pretend you’re watching a movie of a guy sleeping, me, anybody, yourself.
A movie? After a movie I hardly sleep at all.
Then visualize yourself walking up to my place, following a hundred signs.
But then I’ll see you?
Yeah, you got me there, phone me in a week.
A week later the bad sleeper phoned.
Hey Savant, I slept like a newborn set of Siamese twins and you were the other one.
Right, get a surgeon, we need to be separated, cause I’m not sleeping anymore.

Door opens. It’s a party.  Two girlfriends, dressed to the nines,  leave their partners and retreat to the powder room.
You think my guy sees what I’m wearing?
Think mine does?
Let’s swap dresses and see what happens.
In an urban minute they walk over to the bar.
Male, good looking but going on sixty: Didn’t I see you two on some catwalk?
What, the dress or me?
Good question, not sure I would recognize you without.
Girls walk on to the dance floor.
Woman, tattoo-faced, XTC-eyed: Didn’t I see you two in the tattoo parlor?
Sure, dress feels like it’s on us to stay.
Don’t worry, my eyes are lasers.
Go peel a banana.
Girls find their boys.
Boys: What you said is right, music’s too loud to say anything.
Then don’t say it.
Did I say something wrong?
Girls decide to swap back.
In an urban minute they’re back and bump into their boys.
Sweeties, something the matter?
What would that be?
Looks like you went and changed.

This guy Al ‘Bag’ Daddy drives up in his limousine. It’s the home of his friend who is poor as a rat.
Al ‘Bag’ Daddy parks his car against the garbage can and smashes it.
His friend on the porch looks up and says, Hey Al, new car?
No, says Al, this is my old one. Want it?
His friend says, you buy me a new garbage can.
Al ‘Bag’ Daddy curses and drives off, screaming, you’re gonna stay trash yourself.

Al ‘Bag’ Daddy comes around to visit his friend again, who is poor as dirt.
He drives up in a new sports car, dressed in a fur coat.
He screeches to a halt, but manages to tear up a rug hanging over the porch balcony.
Hey Al, got a new coat? No, this used to be my dad’s. Want it?
So I can use it as a rug?
Al ‘Bag’ Daddy curses and races off, screaming, my shoes wouldn’t want you as a doormat.

Al ‘Bag’ Daddy comes around to his friend again who is poor as a match stick.
He drives up in a Hummer with a green Stetson on his head. The vehicle screeches to a halt, knocking down a just planted young apple tree.
Hey Al, got a new hat?
No, it used to be my gardeners’. Want it?
Send along your gardener with a new apple tree.
Al ‘Bag’ Daddy curses and races off, screaming, tree? You sit there all day, just like one.
Hey Al, got a point.

The friend popped up at Al’s mansion on an antique bike. He sideswiped a marble statue of a cherub.
Al ‘Bag’ Daddy shouted, you’re gonna pay for the smallest scratch.
Friend said, want the bike? I got two, one too much.
Yeah, Al said, seeing a profit, gimme the bike. I love anything on wheels.
But how are you gonna get back home?
Is that limousine still on offer?

What? The earth is flat? Then I’m a balloon.
No, you want proof?
You bet your flat feet.
I gotta warn you, parties will try to bamboozle you.
Try me.
Take a long walk with a glass of water in you hand. If it spills, the earth is round.
After.
Well, I  took a long walk, got thirsty and started seeing things, so drank a bit, and the water spilled over.
See, parties put substances in the water.
Try me again.
Take a plane and if you end up topsy-turvy, it’s round.
After.
Well, we ended topsy-turvy alright, cause the pilot started doing somersaults.
See, parties manipulated your perception.
Try me again.
Go find the largest telescope there is, look through it and if you don’t see a sign saying THE END OF THE WORLD, it’s round.
After.
Well, I saw a sign, but it said NO TRESPASSING.
Yeah, parties pretend to have secret military bases.
Heard talk about that, where they keep guys from other planets and their real flat flying things.

Man sits watching an outside film set. The crew takes a break. Man walks over and asks, Who’s the Foley Artist?
Me, says Foley, I invented it.
I’m too silent, man says, can you fit me with some sound?
Sure, what do you want?
Leather soles on wooden floor.
Done.
Man walks over to his girlfriend’s place.
Hey, quit creaking around the house.
Wrong sound, man thinks.
Goes back to Foley.
Can you fit me with another sound? My girlfriend’s freaking out.
Sure, what?
Get me rustling paper.
Done.
Man goes to his office.
Hey, what you shuffling your files for at the lunch break?
You wiping your *** with em too?
Man goes back to Foley.
Colleagues think I’m wasting toilet paper.
Can you fix me another sound?
Well, what will it be?
Try a starting car.
Done.
Man goes to his tennis club. Wins every game.
Hey, you’re like a truck driving over us.
Man goes back to Foley.
Hey, Foley, great sound.
Can’t hear you, cut the engine.