Blog Home Agent of Chaos City Poetry Zine Buy Stuff!
...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 )

Archive for January, 2017

posterior cervical fusion today

Thursday, January 12th, 2017


Going in for surgery this morning – a posterior cervical fusion. buzzed my scalp and took down most the beard to meake it easier on them.

They open the back of my neck, remove the back of two neckbones, cut off a burr bruising my spinal cord, screw two chrome & carbon rods to my neck, smear it with bone dust from my hip, sew me back up, and put my neck in a hard collar so I don’t go biting myself.

They may also being removing something from the front of my neck. Been told two different scenarios, so don’t know.

Have to do this because my arthritic neckbones are grinding against each other, bruising my spinal cord, causing my balance to be off, and leaving my fingertips about 10% numb.

Low risk operation, with recovery difficulty somewhere between the nothing of the hip replacement and the brutality of the shoulder replacement.

I already set off metal detecters.



philosophy 128-135

Wednesday, January 11th, 2017

well of imagining

Philosophy 128

I figure a bunch of little nothings
add up to something.


Philosophy 129

People plop down
then build up
do things
poop a lot
eat the forest for the trees.


Philosophy 130

Whaddya mean OK?
It’s K L M N O, not O K.


Philosophy 131

New life
doesn’t replace old life
but does keep the game going.


Philosophy 132

Don’t hurt the hive,
care for the commons.


Philosophy 133

There are two times to write poems –
when the sun goes down,
and before it’s up.


Philosophy 134

Here’s to the ornamental grasses
the textures of the trees
the way of the wind
the weave of the rain
the day or the night mixed with each.


Philosophy 135

Life is a marathon
whose finish line keeps moving
down the road a piece
so you can’t win.

It’s like cutting onions for tear soup,
the recipe never ends.

– Smith, 1.11.2017

life dance


better clown than clone

Tuesday, January 10th, 2017

painting of Smith by Ken Motz

Self Portrait 2

Better clown than clone
better up than down

Worse with people than alone
prefer smile over frown


Self Portrait 3

Of the hour of the wolf
(3 to 5 am)
plus the hour of the ghosts
and the hour of the owl
(dawn and dusk)
I’m in dawn of owl

– Smith, 1.10.2017

painting of Smith by Ken Motz


sepia past oozes wet and warm

Monday, January 9th, 2017

detail of piece by Mother Dwarf Smith 1926-2005

Flow Chart

Sepia past
oozes wet and warm
through hand-colored present

Blacks turn grey
darks leak light
lets loss in again

Pain of birth
fades in time
with child’s growth

Remembered thens
infect now
in season’s intersect

Old wrong turns
map expectations
tint situational current

And so we let it all go
wait in slow grow
to know

– Smith, 1.9.2017



so here’s some candy and peeks of flesh and shiny buttons and shrieks at less

Sunday, January 8th, 2017


Divine & Conquer

And now back to our program
of stuff that doesn’t matter
and wouldn’t if it did
but keeps you removed
from could and would and should
which never will
because no thought
of ought
so here’s some candy
and peeks of flesh
and shiny buttons
and shrieks at less
we’re all abnormal
but they’re far worse
so fear your neighbor
not the rich man’s curse

And now a word from our other:
eat the rich
they taste just like chicken
(because they are)

– Smith, 1.8.2017



backyard Buddhas

Saturday, January 7th, 2017


Backyard Buddhas

Bunch of yogis on the floor
chanting chance to evermore
their legs locked in pretzels
ringing singing bowls for symbols

There’s money to be made
in seeking the serene
they’ll sunnify your shade
if you’ve got the green

Poor me I walk alone
try to fill my soul
kindness is the goal
with more goodness grown

But still I snarl and growl
snap and bite and maim
like wild wolf I howl
trying to escape your same

You claim want must be lost
desire quenched with blame
that difference is same
once choice is tossed from cost

So for better me
I must lose myself
let ego end its be
put my id on shelf

Once I lose these edges
I will flow with one
seems giving up my sum
must be my first of pledges

But both my dark and light
creates the spark of might
seasons sense of same
complicating aim

– Smith, 1.7.2017



philosophy 122-127

Friday, January 6th, 2017


Philosophy 122

Bread is life
and life is bred.


Philosophy 123

Need a poem for yesterday
to get me through today


Philosophy 124

Dick discharge
versus hearts large.


Philosophy 125

Life’s a waiting room
you sit and wait for others
for things
for yourself.


Philosophy 126

Learn to see dead frog and rust
and thus re-see yourself.


Philosophy 127

The beast must feast
until angel finagles a better angle.

– Smith, 1.6.2017



but worth it for wife and this cup of coffee

Thursday, January 5th, 2017


Sisyphus Symphony

Go to bed weary
wake into wary

Rise to new dark
pre come of day

Two nore teeth bad
so pay people to hurt me

Same money-rock roll
up no-money hill

Wandering wear
in rounding rim of time

But worth it for wife
and this cup of coffee

– Smith, 1.5.2017




Wednesday, January 4th, 2017


Conversation with Wife 32

“Why did the French man leave the beaten path?”
No idea.
“Toulouse Lautrec.”

You gettin’ up?
Good, I’m taking your spot of heat in bed.
“You a thermofile?”
No, I’m more of a thermofolder.
My first pun of the day…

You’re putting sugar in your coffee
“Why not, it’s New Year’s day.”
But I offered sugar this morning
and you said no.
“I have my whims.”
Your what?
“My whims, my whims, my whims.”
Is that why you’re called women?

Are your nail-polished toes going to show?
So they’re no show toes
I used to hunt noshotos in Japan
on the island
around the base of that big mountain

Rubbing the bristles on my cheek,
I tell Lady, you know, I’m part werewolf…
though not werewolf exactly-
more their distant cousins, the waswolves.

– Smith, 1.4.2017



13 months of Smith in Medusa’s Kitchen

Tuesday, January 3rd, 2017


Blue Plate Special

Imagine me
amongst the upper crust.

I was in Baltimore’s Blue Book
for seven years.

Married into it,
divorced out of it.

Which more empty
before or after?

– Smith, 1.3.2017


Here are my past 13 months of Medusa’s Kitchen visits…

December 2015
Januweary 2016
Febnruwary 2016
March 2016
April 2016
May 2016
June 2016
July 2016
August 2016
September 2016
October 2016
November 2016
December 2016

My first appearance in Medusa’s Kitchen was after meeting D.R. Wagner at the annual Beat Celebration poetry reading at the Barking Spider in September 2015 hosted by Dianne Borsenik. He liked my opening found Ferlinghetti poem so he included it at the end of one of his weekly Saturday features the next month, and I used that introduction to slip in the door monthly. – poems and fotos by D.R. Wagner with last poem by Smith.

Kathy Kieth is the publisher/editor, and she puts up a new post everyday… and she has a magic eye for layout.

squirrel hanging upside down trying to get birdseed


Copyright (c) 2009 Smith & Lady
Designed by Lady K