Schnahbah… I just can’t stop thinking about Schnabah. Everywhere I go, everything I do, every morning when I wake up it’s nothing but Schnahbah, Schnahbah, and more Schnahbah.
I turn on the television and guess who’s lookin right back at me? That’s right, Schnahbah. I pick up a newspaper and on the front page in big bold letters it says, “Schnahbah!” When I listen to the radio all I hear is bunch of loudmouth know-it-alls screamin' and yellin' about Schnahbah. I stare at a computer screen for hours and all I can see is one huge out of control Schnahbah-fest!
Every road, every highway, every conveyor belt, every path, every tight rope, every sidewalk, every conduit, every chute, every rail, every ladder, every swing set, every sliding board, every elevator, every escalator, every airway, every waterway leads to Schnahbah.
In every transcendent arc there is Schnahbah.
Dignity and shame can only be destroyed by the hands of Schnahbah.
Schnahbah can energize all-ness the molten fate.
Schnahbah enfolds us in a satellite passion of long lost eons, the ones that have come home to roost.
Schnahbah’s many beautiful eyes fix their gaze upon the glowing space puzzle.
Schnahbah brings relief to those in need and to those who barely survive.
Schnahbah thrives in that one immaculately clean bathroom on the far side of the school, the one near the sound booth way up by the highest tier in the auditorium.
Schnahbah can be the anesthetic tilt-a-whirl. Schnahbah can be the charitable torture.
Schnahbah can be the revolutionary outcome.
Schnahbah can be the holy atomizer.
Schnahbah is euphoria’s pet chameleon—a cosmic dream where no one lives and no one dies.
Schnahbah is an intergalactic signal received via trance ritual.
The trance ritual is a bloom of primordial grace.
Primordial grace is funny.
Schnahbah has a great smile.
Schnahbah loves us all and it can’t live without us.
Schnahbah breathes fire.
Schnahbah makes a great breakfast.
Schnahbah is rich.
Schnahbah oo-goo obby.
Sometimes Schnahbah lives inside of a beer bubble.
Schnahbah has a distant relative who owns a tiki bar in Chattanooga, Tennessee.
Schnahbah is occasionally flakey, but that’s part of its charm.
Schnahbah deals in used equipment while surrounded by glittery streamers, while wearing a bright plaid suit, while speaking passionately through a megaphone.
Sometimes the tears of Schnahbah feed our land.
Schnahbah is always generous because it is not a god.
With a love that cannot be contained, Schnahbah’s talking mirror is an oracle.