Phyllis Steen

Ye Olde crusty cruller

resplendent resuscitator of burnt soda bread recipes. 3/22... question: Is it all about the yeast? I'd like to know. Dummy brays his hee-haw response: What!!! Cumulous nimbuses above troubled waters hover paler than ten drunk's tongues After all we've been through, am I still a Googanoid to you? Peejun watches widgeons circle the block like feathered kitchen clocks turning slow She waits for his shadow to darken the yard, turn the grass a foul ghostly green Leave quicker than you came. The Nafgoofer knows, after sniffing her bones Sissafris chases sails across a Sound. Boy chases phantoms down Love-Me-Do Avenue Could it mean what I think, or not? Run for your life!!! In any case... I love you, Phyllis. Phyllis, I do.

Kafka's Cousin

The Theater of My Blinds

 Guest: You don't think I smoke too much reefer every time I come here, do I?

Host: Well...

Guest: Do I?

Host: Do you want a sandwich?

Guest: Honestly... Do I? (Guest thinks for a bit.
He picks up a rubber baseball bat, pounds the guest furiously with it) You son-of-a-blubbering,  pot pinching, Mary Jane bud guzzling, sensimillial  sneaking thief... (He stops the beating, quick smile). If it was a problem... I'd let you know.

The Ballad of the Meat Clown

 

Words by Christopher Jay. Music by Pepito.