Shorts

I once belonged to a writer's network that cultivated the art of writing extremely short pieces. Members submitted 200-words-or-less pieces to be voted and commented upon. Cleaning my room tonight I found some printouts of mine. I thought I'd share.

"My Dinner Doggy"

From whence my dinner doggy?
Oh tell me, if I please!
The one who drinks 'til groggy
Then pees upon his knees.
The doggy I call "froggy"
Because I'm such a tease.
From whence my dinner doggy?
Oh tell me, or I'll sneeze.

His butt was 'pon a loggy.
'Twas just about to freeze.
His fur was much too soggy
His tail flapped in the breeze.
And crawling 'bout his noggy
Were sixty-seven fleas.
They'll add fine spice to "froggy"
When I scoff him down with cheese.

From thence my dinner doggy.
Now where'd I put my keys?

"Pizza Dream"

There is the dream of someone else. At first, I may be the star in it. That's how it gets my attention. The hook. There's coffee and pizza, too. But it's just to suck me in. I'm there for minutes, I get some pizza, then I turn into a dog or a cat and then the real dreamer walks in and takes over. Last night I turned into three blackbirds. I woke up with a splitting headache.

Why does this guy want me to be present in his dreams? I'm just present there, I don't get to do anything, I'm just an audience in the form of whatever fauna he's obsessing on at the moment. I don't know this guy. I don't want to know him. I should be in dreams of my own. I have my own wishes that need fulfilling. That should be MY cigar, MY railroad tunnel, MY leap off a tall building to certain death. That should be ME drowning, flying, being chased by an ax murderer.

Mexican Lunch -- Tahitian Music

I get a chance to video myself and 9 of the other usual suspects of Real Change, at a lunch party held at Mama's Mexican down the street. The party is in honor of the man in the blue knit hat, vendor Robert Hansen. We won't be paying him to be a Vendor Rep anymore, so to make nice we're buying him lunch while subjecting him to our company. The others, as the camera sweeps right are reporter Cydney G, vendor and editorial committee member August M, editorial manager Adam H, crack intern Danina G, Director of Ops Craig K, Office Manager and Volunteer Coordinator Brooke K, Glorious Leader Timothy H, and fellow ed committee sweetie Anitra F.

Had it not been for Robert and Cydney making faces at the camera, I was planning to call this "Still Life With Mexican Food Eaters." Then, when they all left while I insisted on finishing without asking for a doggy bag, I thought I would call it "People Who Leave Me At A Restaurant So I Can Clean Off Their Plates And Drink What's Left Of Anitra's Beer In Refreshing Solitude." But that was too long.

I added the Tahitian Dance of the Children cause it seemed to fit the mood. Or I should say, it fit my mood. As usual I'm the one doing all the giggling.