herr brekst would know better

we are a dew, a whiff, a shadow. and what are our meadows but a herbal angstish tree?
herr brekst said this beautifully and almost without an accent.
sponge applauded, so did breadroll. block of wood was using the facilities. they were still stuck in dun laoghaire.

brekst will know be the answer perhaps

i would be the one with the question i don’t remember, said herr brekst and sniffled. i have a poem and a question. no answer. what would you like first?
in terms of surrondings, our protagonists are very much floating nowhere at all; no location has been described or specified. hence the obsession with dialogue. if there was moreto see we would have more description of things to fill the lines and add some content.
i would go for the poem but the question has been long promised long time ago, said sponge.

herr brekst does not call by today anyway as it seems

the occasional man was hovering around the corner. not your normal one this time; this one sticks.
i’m anto, he says. he leans over. he taps sponge’s knee. hey, he says.
sponge stares east-west, breadroll the other ways.
block of wood doesn’t show any reaction. we are fine, i think, he says to himself.

brekst for brief

just quickly, herr brekst said, before my knickers twist. i shall say a poem.
not a poem, said sponge, not allowed.
a song maybe, herr brekst inquired, a tune, slightly detuned, arty but full of joy, like

rrrrznnn brrrrrlissssss tokkk me luv
tok luv luv me tokkk

no, said sponge, not allowedd, double-d for the weight of the word and the celtic touch.

just for brekst to interupt

you know, herr brekst said, i hate this. i was supposed to appear and make an appearance, say something, and first and foremost get a question answered. so?
errm, though one, sponge said, to bargain some time. we shall have some change, shan’t we?
a song, toe, thee,

brekst sulcess
lose weight guardian scrotum convey.
male enlargement fracture gauze arragon.

you’ve tried all the rest, now try the be st? recumbent nightgown
the or igi.nal….male enlargement desk fickle dexterity.

doorknob, flooded his ears.

brekst is not an easy man to go

i have another one, brekst said, and brekst read out:

feel embarrassment when joining her in bedroom?
forget the feeling, become her best partner ever!
we know what’s needed for your case.
natural hardness and boosted drive.

that’s so natural, one of the bystanders said.
o shut up, said sponge, what do you know?
the bystander, a mother of two, was disgusted and left. poetry does have o struggle in this country, brekst knew to add.

what herr brekst said and what he did not say

did he say he would be late, said breadroll, i can’t remember.
but you were there, said block of wood, and i wasn’t.
where you not?
i came to ask a question, herr brekst said and they all knew that spring had arrived but still neither knew the question.

wanting to have brekst fast

and when he drawer is still locked, said breadroll.
jammed, said block of wppd, should be fine.
jammed then, said breadrool, you have been typoed.
so have you, said block of wood.
a draw, said breadroll.
today was not the first time they did not notice their porridge being reduced to cinder on the cooker.

brekst for breaks

arse, herr brekst said while block of wood — unaware of herrn brekst’s presence — was searching for a way to keep the conversation going, in any case, or should i say, anyway better than arsenic. that’s is a trivial insight. the little lad from next door said that. he is stupid but in his age it’s called cute. (long protracted silence). anyway. better than some things.
(repeat last line ad lib).

herr brekst next

herr brekst: so, well, if you ask me to: lose weight guardian! for the scrotum convention. male enlargement fractures perhaps gauzed arragon, but men don’t wear rings anyways. you’ve tried all the resteds, now try the bestest? recumbent nightgown floating away in a sea of amber dyed ale.
the (bouncer, blackcoat, redneck, underprivileged) or igi.anal’ (someother == variablethatresultsin == other), male enlargement desktop fickler dexterity brawler.
all that while the doorknob flooded his ears, the usual.
herr brekst ceased. was quiet. certain sadness around the man.

herr brekst

so: you are herr brekst, plainly that and without <em></em> tags whatsoever, said sponge.
herr brekst: that is precisely correct.
are you, said breadroll — understandibly nervous and excited to see a possible celebrity — the herr brekst.
again, herr brekst replied, without <em></em> tags that is if you’d PLEASE; and that’s me hating to use caps.
if only we were in a position to give a toss.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.