June 10, 2012
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Life is just a bowl of cherries – foto Smith
Saturday was one of those days where bad bumps keep leading down one wrong way after another until all you can do is laugh.
Began with a misunderstanding with a friend on MySpace who thought I was making negative comments on her blog. I wasn’t, but I’ve been down in my head lately and my comments have become short, enigmatic, cryptic, so I can see how they could be miscontrued. It’s all been straightened out, but I was surprised how much the anger of a person I don’t know bothered me and shaped my day. I think it would be hard to be famous, what with all those unknown people fascinated or unhappy with you for reasons you have no control over.
Then we went to an outdoor poetry reading. My straw hat which I needed to keep my freshly shaved skull from sunburn had been crushed by being in the backseat of the car too long and when I tried to reshape it, my fingers broke through the old straw crown.
Before the reading I spilled my wife’s freshly purchased black cherry iced tea all over our blanket while trying to pick up a cherry seed to put in the trash.
But the big one was early in the reading — while chewing a soft croissant, a tooth broke off right at the gum line at the base of the crown. Inside the crown is just rot, so it can’t be pasted back in. Fortunately no pain since I’d had a root canal decades ago.
On the good foot, I found this note from my wife this morning when I woke:
Dear Love,
You will always have a crown because it is embedded in your name and you are my king. Steven (crown) Bruce (of the willows) Smith (creator).
Love of my life,
Lady-of-the-Lake Lady Gray
Now that’s a sweet way to awaken,
Lady says Reality is trying to defang me because I’m a wild man. Told her it wasn’t going to work because I could always gum Reality into submission without my teeth.
Poet-potter-publisher-photographer Lang says anyone who dies with all their teeth and all their hair die as failures. I still have my hair, but it won’t turn white to match my beard and temples so I shave my head every few weeks.
Lady’s been slowly rehabbing my body since we took up in 2005. Now we’re working with Case Dental School to stabilize my teeth since they’re about half the cost of a professional.
The rest of me’s pretty sturdy, but I bet I’d make an interesting physical study. I tell you, being born poor and living a wild life can be physically and financially expensive farther down the line — but boy what a ride so far these first 66 years; I’d say the trek’s been worth the toll.
Now since I’ve been off coffee, pain pills, and grass for awhile, I have to decide whether to start back up with my one cup of coffee a day treat, because everyone needs something special to look forward to each day. I turned down a free stone yesterday and breakfast meat this morning — I ain’t path perfect yet, but am working on it.
Lady K
If Eve hadn’t given Adam that apple,
I wouldn’t be smoking today.
Even so,
I tried to serve Sky God,
but I was drawn to that old Debbil Weed.
I became a happy pappy,
papa puff daddy,
gadfly to gladly,
nouveau bohemian in old school crowd.
Sir Laugh-a-Lot of Pot-a-Lot
to Queen MaryJane
Lady Day to Lady K
Kafka to a kiss
– Smith with Lady K, 2006
My nicknames for Lady K started 7 years ago with Kafka’s Lady because she was sooooooo strange, especially for wanting me; then morphed into Lady K, first for Lady Kafka and then Lady Kathy; turned into Lady Gray in a couple poems; and is now simply Lady.
This is Reporter Smith aka Sir Laugh-a-Lot of Pot-a-Lot to Queen MaryJane aka Crown of the Willows Creator signing off until next poem or reportable Realital Interaction.
Tooth betray – foto Smith
