WALKING ON THIN ICE

Arachniphonia

poetic inspiration

Arachniphonia

A tarantella is a dance,
while a tarantula is a spider.

If I get the latter on me,
I do the former.

– Smith, 4.30.2014

There, that may do it, I’ve written and posted a poem a day for 7 months, 212 days. Will keep writing a daily poem just to see how long I can stretch my record, but not always posting because it’s time for something else.

Here’s a video of last Saturday’s Writing Knights Press poetry reading. Starting at the one minute mark, I read 9 minutes of Lady because she was sick and couldn’t be at Mac’s Backs, followed by 20 minutes of me — youtube.com/watch?v=2IioY7nATJY&feature=share&list=UUtZdSsHhVd2aLqF7VlPqqgw&index=1.

Watching this I see I need to work on performance pizazz because I’m not interesting enough. Also realize I shouldn’t read 16 brand new poems in a row because I don’t know how to read them yet, so for next Monday night’s reading at Mahall’s I’ll intersperse a few classics.

processing a poem a day

no go

No Go

Take out pocket key
look at right one
put wrong one in

– Smith, 4.28.2014

Lady woke me from dreamscape too soon. We were being chased by two agents in cheap suits, Mr Big and Mr Small. They wanted something off my camera, but I didn’t know what. Mr Big sat down with me and tried to convince me to turn it over without trouble but I wouldn’t. He was big and looked deadly, but he was talking kindly to me, no threat of force or violence; it was Mr Small who felt truly dangerous. Mr Big sat his camera device down on the table as he talked, then suddenly everything was gone and Lady and I were marching through wilderness with a group of people, being led by a young thin long haired blonde woman. I put my hand in my pocket and found I had Mr Big’s camera as well as my own. I rushed to our blonde guide and tried to get her attention but she kept talking to the others and ignored me, so I levitated until I was floating in the air sideways with my face right in front of hers and said “You need to listen, pay attention to me, I have what they want. You need to contact Mr Big and Mr Small. I can get us out of this.” It was odd I always said Mr Big and Mr Small since it was Mr Small who was in charge. She rushed off to contact them and Lady and I started playing with Mr Big’s device when I figured out how to make it work and we started watching a long video. Nothing special about the video, just landscape, but there were a lot of videos on the device and I knew one of them would tell us what was going on. Suddenly the device popped out a 6 inch spring, and when I handled it it metamorphed into a 30 foot stand holding a gigantic 50 foot tube-spring angled up toward the floating spacecraft in the sky and we were going to be catapulted through the tube into the craft . . . which is where Lady came in and woke me, so for the second recent remembered dream, I was wakened just before revelation.

alien ship

The Bro Grin Tales

Oozy

The Bro Grin Tales

I’m itchy she says as she turns and squirms.

You must be one of the seven dwarfs, I inform,
there’s Itchy and Squirmy and Dirty
and Oozy and Gooey.

We always wondered which was worse
Oozy or Gooey
but I choose Oozy
cuz who knows where that stuff comes from
it’s such a curse
for Gooey’s just sticky
while Oozy’s much worse.

Then there’s Doozy and Boozy both losing to floozies
who flutter their butter and churn em to utter
wild cries of the sexual in the midst of the mutual
on their mad nights of ritual.

– Smith, 4.23.2014

Doozy