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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )

how sweet it is

x marks the spot – foto by smith

A black man in the White House. How deliciously sweet.

The CheneyBush Beast has been ousted. The Obama good guy won. In 77 days we can start washing the Republican slime from the White House and begin fixing our country again. God knows how much more CheneyBush will break and slime and steal and kill before we get them out of office. Once they’re out the White House door, we have to start working on getting them behind bars. Wonder how many pardons Bush will grant on his way out? Have to fumigate the White House, Congress, and the Constitution to get the Republican filth off it all.

Now to get back to normal life.

Coming and going from our apartment involves two metal doors with metal locks and catches – neither of which is quiet. The second floor parrot in the back can’t see me come and go, but he’s memorized the door sounds, so every time I leave or return, he calls to me. So I go back and talk to him for two-three minutes, just as I would any neighbor. And I spose I understand him as well as humans.

This morning he wouldn’t shut up as I visited – he squawk, chirped, whistled, made motorcycle starter sounds, all while doing his happy dance which involves skipping sideways across his bar cage then pulling himself up the cage wall by his beak to do a somersault back down to dance back to where he was. This he followed with a dozen perch rolls where he revolves around and around his bar like a mad gymnast on speed. As I left, he kept calling to me to come back.

I like my non-human friends. Most tend to be gentle, but I even adore the roof dog down the street that snarls at me each time we walk by and wants to tear me apart. I talk to all the street dogs we pass, and the few cats we see. I talk to the lizards. I talk to plants and trees. I talk to sun, sky, moon, pebble, stone, mountain. I talk with my eyes to all the babies and toddler tots, wave as well. A good number smile and wave back.

Most all my conversations are with Lady, babies, children, dogs, cats, birds, lizards, elements, and inanimate objects. I also talk constantly to the universe and local reality in general. Sometimes it answers.

I’m of the old American Native school in which everything has a spirit which must be respected. And I mean EVERYTHING – stone, water, air, cars, computers, animals, plants, earth, sun, moon, sky – even discarded pieces of plastic.

Just about everything in fact except Vice-Dick Cheney and his middle-finger puppet George WarCrimes Bush and their murderous fascist gang of thieves.

seed pod – foto by smith

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