today or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow

so what are we at? the mother of five –of two– of two of course or is it the father of seven? of six, excuse me.
they hardly allow fathers or sevens on tv, or of six for that matter, that must be a hell of an accident before they get a mention.
now, shall we leave these lines, said sponge, or shall we comment?
comment, said breadroll.
and what’s it going to be then, said sponge, long or short?
short, said breadroll, they’re all shite.
poetic, said sponge, poetry is a nourish. any time. -ment, i meant nourishment. we keep correcting ourselves but that doesn’t make a great story, or explains the title. not funny at any time.

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.

today is a day once more

today is a day is a day is day is a day is a day is a day is a day. today. is a day is a day is day is a day is a day is a day is a day. and so on. there is no stopping them.
it’s stuff like this, said sponge, that gives us all a bad reputation; and not only this, other stuff, too. other stuff indeed more than other things.

today a day is a day

sponge, breadroll and block of wood did not say much more, just this: if it wasn’t for tomorrow i would not not what to do or whom and it doesn’t take the length of a spit to fathom that. today is a good enough day to say or do things, you know what i mean? whati’m talking about; and where i’m coming from? —

no spreadsheet today

a birthday? sponge hopped with exitement. a funny move but to no avail. do i get to sit wet on a chair like in the old days?
no, he could not do that.
we get to spread a sheet? right, a proper spreadsheet?
no. no spreadsheet.
who’s birthday is it?
someone special, said breadroll.
we cannot tell, said block of wood, it’s confidential; a shame but true.
someone famous, sponge ought to know.
no, a celebrity, said block of wood, tea?
yes. tea, said sponge. we won’t move too much today i reckon.
all in moderation as the english say, said breadroll.
fabulous people, said sponge.

and now for some music in between today

today in lights of the day, i mentioned it earlier, we present sponge of breadroll, sponge and block of wood with our queries. but now for some music in between today.
[some music you can imagine]
tough, said breadroll, i’d love to show my bit now and say it.
that, said block of wood, would be. he leaves us guessing.

for today

(on stage; a summary (query: why is the title not ‘a summary’? answer: it refers only to the first few lines); stage bare, 3 chairs.)
innovation, said sponge.
excitement, said breadroll.
outlook, said block of wood, tco and btl.
without having progressed towards the ultimate target, said sponge, i shall say we have made impressive progress so far. i don’t know about you but i am very proud. (they all are).
(they place the chairs in a row and sit down, facing the audience.)
wasn’t there supposed to be a curtain at some stage, now after we’ve said final words, said breadroll.
not yet, said sponge.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.