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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,
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slouching bethlehem belly


our cat’s belly – foto by Smith

I captioned one of my fotos in yesterday’s blog “the center does not hold.” That’s a riff on the third line from this 1919 poem by W. B. Yeats that I love. Like it so much that I riffed on its last line in my poem Promise Land, turning “Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?” into “Slouching Bethlehem belly.”

This Yeats poem seems truer today than when he wrote it – or perhaps in this world it’s always been true, always will be.

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

— William Butler Yeats, January 1919

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Promise Land

Greyhound bound
To Tupperware City
Light like liquid Zen
Wars time tatter tight
As tight asses tie
Meat neat man to kine, kino
Contempt of course
Playing Plato’s barn

Blue bloods
Stabilize fish at 7
Mime the ma’am
Bamboo cathedrals
In wondrous disarray
Just outside real
Where the fat
Flee frantic
Fleece feed the poor

Competing EXIT signs
Dance specific disease
  Rude crude
  Plus tax
Bouncing Betty’s
Slouching Bethlehem belly
Slips on guilt
And splinters.

— Steven B. Smith, April 1995


Jell-O – foto by Smith

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