life in the flesh lane

Time to harvest my last two pocket notebooks before I again lose all my street notes.

Like most poet-humorist-thinkers, I always carry a small notebook to record stray thoughts for later use. If you write, you need to capture such thoughts when they whish through your mindfield because you seldom remember them later — the good ones are always flashes-in-the-brain-pan.

Lost my first poetry pocket pad in Barcelona in 2007. As we entered a subway car, two youths buffeted me violently, trapping my backpack in the subway doors as they pretended to be looking above the door at the map. As they left and slowly sauntered away, my brain flashed “pickpockets” and I felt my back jean pocket – it was empty . . . they’d stolen my poetry notebook (I keep my money and camera in my tight front pants pocket). The notebook had a description of the railway station begging scams I’d observed in Bezier, so maybe it’d give them some side crime ideas to try. . . otherwise I amuse myself thinking how disappointed the Poetry Thieves of Barcelona were when they looked and found poetry snippets instead of money.

My second loss was from forgetting to remove my notebook from my jeans before putting it through the wash at the Soap Opera Laundromat

So now I periodically blog my unused notebook notes, hoping for inspiration down the road. If naught else, this gives you insight in how my mind works when it flits from playful thought to sound.

~ ~ ~

fool full few days

better fresh than foul

worry worn and weary

whine weak slime seek

I’m hurtin’ for certain

train horn beep bops in the night

the bird’s eye blackwing school

Okra – the TV talk show vegetable queen

duck water / bridge water / would water

relationships: me-me, me-she, me-we, she-she, she-me, she-we, me-cat, me-cat-she, me-cat-we, she-cat, she-cat-me, she-cat-we + THEY THEM THOSE OTHERS NOT US with all-the-above and friends with all-the-above and strangers with all-the-above and finances with all-the-above and health-love-age-height-gender-race-education-economics with all-the above and the sociosphere versus us all — and finally everything we are and aren’t and do and don’t and did and didn’t via us, each other, THEM, and Mother Gaia Earth

backside the mirror in tarnished brain land

dark clouds at the end of town

life in the flesh lane

I seem to surf the curve of worse

memes and men as meaning making machines

whether tomorrow will be fair or despair

keep shaking that etch-o-sketch

there’s a ghost of chicken squawk in the crying yapyapyap of the ratdog penned unpleasantly across the way

as un-American as tainted apple pie

good gone bad gone good

Holy Guacamole, Batman

there’s an urgency beating at me beating at me beating at me an urgency beating at me beating beating away and I ain’t no drum – I’m not even a musician or a note in the choir

6:01 or a half-dozen of another time and place to face space and clime

going to have a Naughahyde nipple surgically implanted in the middle of my forehead. . when mortals meet me I’ll slightly bow so they can suck my third-eye nipple as I bless them with my mutant magnificence

The Corporate Condom Company does not condone company

even the truly great people are human — tired, petty, selfish, scared, weak, greedy, envious, proud, impatient . . . even geniuses piss shit burp bump trip trap

Extra Virgin Olive Oil – for Doris Day

The Rock Hudson Aids Weight Loss Diet starring Clitoris Day

canned Kathy kisses

some from column A to B. . . others riding Rosary. . . all of it lies to me. . . without beneficiary

I’m a reality adjuster — most the time I flow in on the cosmic surf, land in a spot I didn’t choose, and set about trying to make it a little more pleasant place for me and thee to be

before entering the forest, break a twig while telling the forest “I’m coming in and I’ll inevitably do some damage, so I apologize before.”

we broke a glass in Morocco at a hashish dealer’s home and apologized; “Don’t worry,” he said, “that’s good news because if anything bad were going to happen, that’s it, so we’re safe.”

there are takers, sharers, and givers, and stone-hearted killers / there are willers, and millers, and shillers / fakers, shakers, sackers, rackers, shrivers / makers, breakers, caretakers, slave slakers

the new dead weather 3-D Jesus

Nepalese poet’s father’s advice: “You must have a younger wife and a bigger shoe — the wife to take care of you in your old age, and the bigger shoes so to not pinch your feet when climbing the mountain.”

they walk between mountains, we walk amongst money

clotted cream, love blood

one flame, two candles

poke, prod, ponder, peruse. prick, push, pull

time, luck, determination, circumstance = enlightenment

driving too fast twixt sun and shadow

Smith’s 1st law of sociability — the more folk you piss off, the fewer you have to talk to

so narrow the path from have to haven’t, safe to sore, help to hell

layered Lucite in a maze of mirrors

the United Marinations of America

we eat salt and drink water with food, so why is drinking salty sea water fatal?

long schlong slither

worry is a weary wheel, woeful way

~ ~ ~

This is Smith once again reporting from the tarnished silver slowly separating the dark backside of the mirror. if anywhere unsure, go ask Alice.