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Archive for August, 2007


Sunday, August 19th, 2007
I set my happy trap,
flushed ego to zero,
set goal to here, now.

My arrow is a boomerang.

Chain gang works crucible
against grain.
I got plumb tongue.

Lady K

“You are a fustery man. I love you.”

Ditto, dudess.

“You’re not parallel to the x or y axis. You’re an oblique asymptote.”

I’m the axis of even, the Wizard of Odd.

“Oh, dear. Ah, a curve can intersect its asymptote, even infinitely many times. I’ll be your curve. You had all this stuff, didn’t you? You had Calculus.”

I had all that stuff.

“I’m thinking I should practice some math. Just to make sure I still have it. I used to do Calculus problems for fun. I’m really crazy.”

I reduce my mathematical functions to off/on, stop/go, yes/no, now/not now.

“I like that. You’re binary.”

I’m binary. Yes. I’m the Six Billionth Binary Man.

“Hello, Unit One.”

I want to be Unit Zero.

“I am Unit Zero. Take me to your leader. Are you my leader?”

I’m your leader. I used to be a quart, but now I’m a liter.

This is the kind of humor Groucho Marx used.

“Do you think he smoked?”

I think he smoked. I read about him doing some acid.

Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana.

“I like that one. That’s like a popping tile pattern.”


sweet 16

Sunday, August 19th, 2007

foto by smith

Lady hosted a poetry reading at the Poetry Cafe for the London contributors to her online zine City Poetry. She and I closed the reading by standing together at the mic reciting these 16 poems back and forth one at a time:

Lady & Smith – 16 poems
Lady Grey by Smith
White Boy Blues by Smith
Doing Time by Smith
Brother Grim by Smith
Grease Your Grill by Smith
Truth Truce by Smith
Now Zen by Smith
Pumpkin Time by Smith

foto by smith


for the benefit of mister kite

Saturday, August 18th, 2007

foto by smith

finally got my spirit kindled – the poetry reading lady k arranged for the london contributors of her online zine was a fine 2.5 hour flow of open mic and 6 featured readers. lady hosted the evening for the benefit of mister kite and a splendid time was had by all. she and i ended the reading standing at the mic reciting 16 poems one at a time back and forth. we had more friends coming out than we had going in. 3 poets gave us free books of their poetry – always a good sign. one lady who hadn’t performed in a couple of years since before motherhood was so inspired she got up and did 3 pieces from memory. it cost us $50 to rent the room, and we made it back on our $6 cover charge – made enough to pay the poets as well. that’s twice now i’ve been part of paying poets, so my ticket to heaven is assured – although it was lady’s ideas to pay them this time… i would have kept the money for drugs and other sweet debasements.

i was thinking about starting a MySpace page titled Sluts R Us and just accept as friends all those scantily clad women who keep emailing me asking me to go to their other sites and look at them naked for money. past 5 days i’ve denied friendship to these 33 maybe ladies (i say maybe because one of my poet friend’s son was one of those ladies for awhile) :

Amelia Andrea Debby Candice Aurora Liz Chloe Arabela Delia Bonnie Deborah Alva Donna Elva Gladys Doloros Gladys Barbara Jean Dominic Ranee Hedy Beverly Julia Emma Lisa Ann Lucy Enid Constance Belinda Candance Annabelle …

these names all have an openness, a lightness, perhaps an availability about them, certainly an easiness. except for Enid – Enid makes me think of aphids, which make lousy lovers. of the 33 names, 24 start with the 1st 5 letters of the alphabet – A thru E… once again easy availability, open sounds. i do wonder why Gladys is used twice, since it is a hardish name. once had 4 requests of same foto with 4 different names, which means 4 different myspace accounts, which means 4 different email addresses. (i sent all of them my fone #, but no one’s called).

foto by smith


slave & masturbation

Friday, August 17th, 2007

foto by smith

lady k’s set up a poetry reading tonight at the poetry cafe downtown london for the british contingent of her City Poetry zine. i initiated another reading for us next thursday – Two Olde Farts & a Chick with Jazzman John Clarke, a Beat influenced poet. be nice to have a wee taste of reading after such a long cultural dry spell.

Slave and Masturbation

An old plow hand, I play acoustic
Foreskin, hairy palms, white cane
Puberty, the fish and the fingers.
Old acids etch anew my brain.
The old wants? They still imply
Unoffered breasts, often rejected.

Original sin is condition given
So the knee bores say.
Yet dark ripples still unstill light.
Small deaths linger lightly on sheets
No longer washed nor nightly scented
With reason wrinkled or raw.

foto by smith



Thursday, August 16th, 2007

“In a year one can learn a lot, age a lot. I’m definitely affected. I’m waiting for the next onion layer.”

There’s a great album title by the Incredible String Band, “The 5,000 Spirits or the Layers of the Onion.”

“I like that.”

That’s probably as old as you are.

“I’ve been writing about my early early adulthood. Going back to some painful times. Hmm. 5,000 layers of the onion.”

There’s always trepanation.

“That reminds me. You know, the zombies in the movie Land of the Dead are good metaphors for now. It seems as though everybody’s asleep. They’re not changing their lifestyles to reduce energy and waste. They just want to turn the switch, and everything keeps working. As long as we don’t see what’s in the next room, it’s OK. And in the next room is the Third World.”

We’re the First World. Where’s the Second?

“According to Wikipedia, the Second World was a phrase used to describe the communist states within the Soviet Union’s sphere of influence. But now capitalism’s won, and the whole world’s becoming the Third World. That’s what globalization is. A race to the bottom. I’m so sorry, honey. I can’t help but think about these depressing things.”

Well, we have to know what’s going on. Because we’re going to be living in it. We have to survive. I’m starting to understand this is the Zen goal of living happy in an unhappy world. You and I are trying to live as bright a life as we can in these very dark times.

“You’re absolutely right. So anyways, that’s what I like about the Romero movies. They’re very metaphoric.”

Very metaphoric. He had Dawn of the Dead take place in a shopping mall, and you can’t get much cooler than that.

“In my early childhood we were poor, and my girlfriend and I wondered what that would be like if we could have anything we wanted in a shopping mall. Our goal was to become good consumers. It’s crazy, isn’t it? But that’s what that’s like when you never have new clothes, your parents don’t have a new car, your mom says she’s broke. That’s what these aspiring developing countries want. New things.”

I have yet to have a new vehicle. Unless you count a bicycle. Used cars, used motorcycle, used pickup. Maybe I’ll buy me a new SUV.

“Over my dead body! Ah, well. I’ve been thinking about us settling down. We’ll have to make money through writing, or I’ll have to get a job.”

Or we can rob banks that are next to subway stations, so we can use public transport for getaway.

“It was interesting watching the zombie movie’s mechanisms of commerce. That’s how we are, in this world. We’re mercenary.”

Yes, people are. They don’t seem to realize that money doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a symbol that everybody has to agree on.

“You know the Federal Reserve? That’s a private bank. I wonder what kinda bad stuff goes on there. They can just *print* money.”

I think the news would be to find places there’s NOT corruption around the world.

The whole problem here is that mankind has never been very nice to mankind, or the planet. And you have a lot of nice people doing a lot of nice things, but nice people are always outnumbered by bad people.

“I think the concept of “niceness” was manufactured.”


“No, by the bad people. Well, rulers have always fostered a state religion for their legitimacy. And, there’s also something called the Middle Class Ethic. And people raised with the Middle Class Ethic initially give the benefit of the doubt to authority, that government is benign, that presidents aren’t questionable.”

Where actually it’s cancerous.

“That’s how I used to be. I used to have the Middle Class Ethic. And the authorities would pat me on the head, tell me I was gonna get far. Nice little Democrat. We see you’re buying into our framework.


i, quotidian

Thursday, August 16th, 2007

foto by smith

George W. Bush, 2005
“See, in my line of work you got to keep repeating things over and over and over again for the truth to sink in, to kind of catapult the propaganda.”

Joe Strummer of The Clash
(You have) “the right to free speech — unless you’re dumb enough to actually try it.”

“Everything begins with lucid indifference.”

Barney Frank
“For Republicans, life begins at conception and ends at birth.”

Milan Kundera
“The struggle of people against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.”

John F Kennedy
“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.”

Benjamin Franklin
“People shall become so corrupted as to need despotic Government, being incapable of any other.”

John Dewey
“Politics is the shadow that big business casts over society.”

Noam Chomsky
“Historians – part of their task is to shape our picture of the past in a way which is supportive of power interests in the present.”

IF Stone
“All governments are run by liars and nothing they say (about anything) should be believed.”

Ben Franklin
“There was never a good war or a bad peace.”

Thomas Jefferson
“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants”.

“We have art in order not to die from the truth.”

“Creating is living doubly.”

Noam Chomsky
“There has not in history ever been any answer other than, Get to work on it.”

Go thee and suffer less
the Church of Not Quite So Much Pain & Suffering

foto by smith


myth america

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007

foto by smith

be like being behind enemy lines when we return to the state of the states this fall after 14 months away. scary times, but interesting. after wandering so long through so many foreign mindsets, the u.s. will be just one more foreign country for us to report on and learn.

Myth Amerika

O Red White and Blueeyed Lady, I am
But a fey ray in the King Kong of your
Clutch, a dank doodle dandy, Jekyll haired
Hyde. For to spite your apple laid Annies,
Your tacky plastic seams of care slighted
Bellies begatting sewer, catfish cauls,
You fed my me my folly, bled my need
Of calling. Beshat, of fox on Farley.

foto by smith


day tripper

Tuesday, August 14th, 2007

foto by smith

my daily bled:
get up, feed cat, wash dishes, do 2 loads laundry, make bed, pet cat, take bath, edit memoir, check news, watch grey day rain, eat lunch, wash more dishes, download / process fotos, write blog, check email and myspace, check friend’s blogs, pet cat, practice 8 poems memorized for friday’s reading, exercize body, take typing lesson, read, eat dinner, wash rest of dishes, feed cat, watch downloaded jon stewart daily show, pet cat, toke smoke, go to bed – all the while continuously intermittently interfacing with lady.

foto by smith


sale city

Monday, August 13th, 2007

the sale of two cities: in marrakech, the vendors are offensive, vocal and intrusive when it comes to selling stuff, but their prices aren’t too bad – here in london, they’re much quieter about it, but charge you way more.

regained some bounce – i may be tired, even a bit bored, but at least i’m still outside the u.s.a., so i’m going to appreciate these final 3 weeks in london and 4 weeks in south france before we return to the scene of crimes.

we’ve two poetry readings coming up:

Friday Aug 17, 7 p.m. – London England
City Poetry Contributors Reading РPoetry Caf̩
John Clarke, Sue Johns, Patric Cunane, the WORM, the Smiths
Includes Open Mic session
£3 admission goes for venue fee and to pay other 4 featured poets
22 Betterton Street, Covent Garden, WC2
nearest tube Covent Garden
Thursday Aug 23, 8 p.m. – London England
Voices of Experience: Two Olde Farts & a Chick
Poets John Clarke, Kathy Ireland Smith & Steven B. Smith
Railway Pub, Tulse Hill, SE27

for complete list of our poetry events, plus lady k’s 1st solo art show, go to AgentOfChaos.



Monday, August 13th, 2007

photo by S B Smith

Merv Griffin just died. I don’t suppose you know who he is, do you.

“Actually, isn’t he that game show guy?”

He did Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. My wife and I were in the audience of his talk show on our honeymoon in ’69. Gypsy Rose Lee showed us her breasts.

When we got home, we kept watching the show. Actually saw ourselves in the audience for the Gypsy Rose Lee episode.

“That’s surreal.”

The talk show would stop for commercials, but Merv Griffin and his guests kept babbling away. And during one of those commercials, she turned to the audience, lifted her top, showed us her breasts.

While we were waiting to get in, a guest from his previous show came out. A real old Eddie Arnold.

“Who’s that?”

He’s from the 40s and 50s, a real pretty country crooner. Had a few crossover hits. As Eddie Arnold in his cane headed for the taxi cab, a fan ran up for the autograph, and Arnold just said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m tired.’ Got in the cab and left.

“How did you guys get into that show?”

We headed to NY for our honeymoon. We saw a play, Cabaret, with Joel Gray and a a female understudy that night. Ate in some famous restaurant. Then went to see a TV show.

“Where’s my honeymoon?”

Somewhere between here and the previous eight, nine countries we visited.

“I guess I can’t complain! How weird. It’s just so weird to think of you in a game show audience.”

I also used to like Andy Williams singing and the Montovanni Orchestra. It’s elevator music. It’s heavy strings.

“Yr an oddball.”

Well, had a lot of bad taste and good taste in me. Cuz I was also listening to Stan Getz and Coleman Hawkins in jazz.

“I don’t know much about Stan Getz.”

He did that one with the Girl from Ipanema.

“Oh, I love that.”

Yes. I thought it was pretty cool, too.

“And Andy Williams?”

Andy Williams was like a pretty Tony Bennett. Very smooth. His girlfriend, Claudine Longette, after they split she killed ski star Spider Sabich.

“Oh, that’s so weird: Spider Sabich. What a name. Andy Williams is a country prototype, isn’t he?”

No, it keeps getting watered down. There’s Bing Crosby, watered down to Perry Como, watered down to Andy Williams. Pretty singing. Tony Bennett has some style, whereas Andy Williams does the same songs, but they’re just smooth.

Both Perry Como and Andy Williams had their own TV shows.

“And didn’t Bing Crosby do some things with Bob Hope?”

All the Road movies. And probably some TV specials.

One of the weirdest things I saw on TV was Bing Crosby doing a duet of Little Drummer Boy with David Bowie! It was a *pretty* duet.

“That would just totally shake me out of my gestalt.”

They were standing on two sides of the piano, very nice number. Off subject, I also saw Frank Sinatra host Elvis’ return from the Army.

Frank sang an Elvis song, Elvis sang a Frank song, then they did some other stuff. I think he was on for 12 minutes and made a hundred thousand dollars for 12 minutes which back in 1960 was a lot of TV money.

“Isn’t Elvis and Sinatra mixing oil and water?”

Same with Bing/Bowie. That’s the whole object of it.

Ah, Nat King Cole – Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer. He had a pop hit.

“Get Your Kicks on Route 66! You’re educating me in Amerikana.”

I just have a weird collection of stuff in my head.

“How long was your honeymoon?”

At least two, three nights. We ate at Sardi’s. That’s one of the names back then. Actually, my honeymoon was my second time in New York. The first time, I drove my future mother-in-law and my future wife to a court in NYC, where my wife’s sister was being tried for drug smuggling. All I can remember is the judge letting her off on probation saying she couldn’t go with the guy who she smuggled drugs with. And I remember the New York City traffic. It was horrible.

The first thing the sister did after the trial was marry her drug partner.

“Weird how they think they can dictate your private life.”

That’s what parole is. You can’t associate with felons and stuff, known bad people. When I was on probation for driving drunk, I couldn’t drink, I couldn’t do drugs, and I couldn’t associate with criminals and I couldn’t leave the State. So I did all of it.

“Ah, the criminal class.”

I am NOT a criminal. I’m ‘eccentric.’ Odd, perhaps. A victim of free range thinking.

“You’re free-range, grass fed Smith. The rest of us are corn dogs.”


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