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 the ‘america’ Category

online tap water quality check by zipcode

Thursday, October 24th, 2019

Cleveland tap water quality test results for the Tremont neighborhood per the EWG.org (Environmental Working Group) website.

Bromodichloromethane exceeds the standard by 125 times
(cancer causing)

Chloroform exceeds the standard by 30 times
(cancer causing)

Chromium (hexavalent) exceeds the standard by 5.1 times
(cancer causing)

Dibromochloromethane exceeds the standard by 36 times
(cancer causing)

Dichloroacetic acid exceeds the standard by 12 times
(cancer causing)

Nitrate exceeds the standard by 2.5 times
(cancer causing) *

Nitrate & nitrite exceed the standard by 7.3 times
(cancer causing) *

Total trihalomethanes (TTHMs) exceed the standard by 157 times
(cancer causing)

Trichloroacetic acid exceed the standard by 11 times
(cancer causing)

Go here and type in your zipcode to find your neighborhood’s ratings
https://www.ewg.org/tapwater/

* don’t know why they have Nitrate and Nitrate & Nitrite as 2 catagories

 

Smith reading 2019-02-19 at the Art On Madison gallery

Tuesday, September 24th, 2019

Seven month old fone video of my Art on Madison reading 2.19.2019, with guest appearance by Lady, hosted by John Burroughs.

Video volume is inconsistent due to ceiling heater cutting on and off, plus my soft speaking voice, and lack of a microfone – but it gives you a feel for the rhythm of the words. I had to use headfones to listen.

Friends have mentioned the best parts are Lady reading from the memoir at the end of her set, and me ending with mom’s death around the 40 minute mark.

Introduction by John Burroughs — 0 to 3:12
me reciting — 3:13 to 14:35
Lady reading — 14:36 to 27:13
me reading — 27:14 45:53
Q & A — 46:54 51:56

Watching it, there are moments of magic, but I need to be way less laid-back, and to add volume and texture to my vocal delivery… compensate for having part of my voice box removed in the early oughts.

But the words themselves are right fine. And the audience generous.

The two books read from are —

Where Never Was Already Is, 2018, Crisis Chronicles Press, 324 pages 244 poems 29 illustrations, $15
http://ccpress.blogspot.com/2018/04/098Smith.html

and my memoir

Stations of the Lost & Found – a True Tale of Armed Robbery, Stolen Cars, Outsider Art, Mutant Poetry, Underground Publishing, Robbing the Cradle, and Leaving the Country by Smith & Lady, 2012, The City Poetry, 344 pages, $20
https://www.amazon.com/Stations-Lost-Found-Steven-Smith/dp/1477628290

 

Lost (x 4 x) Found

Wednesday, September 18th, 2019

Lost lost sorta-lost lost.
Cards for Medicare, SSN, debit, and credit.
Days pass for some, weeks for others.
Weary worried worn and wan.
And then
found found found found.

Last month hospital asked to see my new Medicare card. Wasn’t in my wallet so they said bring it next time.

Came home, looked everywhere. Nada.

Decided to bicycle to west 79th and get a replacement card, so looked up their hours and find they’re not there any more… have to go downtown, to the BIG Building, where my shoulders, hip, and neck will set off their metal detectors, me hoping they won’t shoot me. Of course I’m old, white, and male, so I’d probably be alright.

Today I get an email reminding me to bring my Medicare card next time.

So I search harder. Take the bin I keep wallet and keys in with years of odds, ends, notes, collage pieces, bills, and look through each piece, getting rid of a lot of trash and finding 9 laundry quarters, but no card.

Then I take everything off the bookshelf by my chair, again to no avail.

Look behind a large broken assemblage leaning against the bin’s bookcase and see a card face down on the floor – think aha, there it is, but it’s my SSN card I didn’t even know I was missing, the very card I’d need if I have to go downtown.

I give up, take a bath, mull… figure card could have fallen with the SSN card and slipped beneath the bookshelf, so I get dressed and take everything off the shelves, the first being a small collage and a book it rests on – I set them on the work table, then take everything out of the bookcase, turn it upside down – no card, and no card on each book I replace. I give up, again.

Wife comes home, tells me her bankcard is lost beneath the car seat for the past week, and she can’t fine her credit card past 4 days.

I get up to go down to the car and notice the collage and book I’d put on the table. I start to put them back, then out of curiosity pick up the collage to see what the name of the book is – and there between the two is my Medicare card.

I retrieve her bank card from beneath the driver’s seat, then clean out the entire car to be sure her muissing credit card isn’t there somewhere. She comes down to help and mentions the last time she used it was 4 days ago at a local restaurant, so she calls them, and viola – they have the card.

4 for 4. How lucky can we be?

 

the 2nd coming mending wall

Thursday, August 29th, 2019

Strange – I pick these 2 poems for their moral implications, and find they were written within 5 years of each other, back in the WW I days – the war that ended all wars.

The Second Coming
by William Butler Yeats, 1919

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre 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?

~ ~ ~

Mending Wall
by Robert Frost, 1914

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbour know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
“Stay where you are until our backs are turned!”
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, “Good fences make good neighbours.”
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
“Why do they make good neighbours? Isn’t it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That wants it down.” I could say “Elves” to him,
But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father’s saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, “Good fences make good neighbours.”

 

men

Thursday, April 4th, 2019

 

Friday Night

Friday, July 6th, 2018

A delirium of talk
from my head to my heart
tight burn hollows of shoulders
dog breath, a panicked cat
bird in the throat
bird in the ear
bird in the eyes
bird brain
Friday night

~ Lady

 

sloth smith

Friday, May 4th, 2018

SlothSmith here – my daily blog seems to be down to once a month. So slowly I turn…

Various statuses or statii from my Facebook page past 4 days.

~

I worked 45 years, paid Medicare and taxes… my last year as a programmer analyst consultant I made $75,000. I had a good life, money in the bank. Then throat cancer ate up all my money, so I sold my condo and we lived on that for 10 years. Now I’m poor enough that my hospital absorbs all costs that Medicare doesn’t pay. Welcome to the roller coaster called capitalism.

~

What is this Big Band that created the universe? Are we really the by-product of swing?

~

what trump’s own people think of him:

White House chief of staff John Kelley – “an idiot”

former Secretary of State Rex Tillerson – “a fucking moron”

National security adviser H.R. McMaster, – an “idiot,” a “dope” and a man with the brain of a “kindergartner.”

former chief of staff Reince Priebus an “idiot.”

Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin – an “idiot.”

Then-chief economic adviser Gary Cohn – “dumb as shit” and “an idiot surrounded by clowns.”

billionaire media baron Rupert Murdoch – “a fucking idiot”

Me? I call him a child rapist (he was sued for raping a 13 year old girl), a thief, a liar, a traitor, bottom feeder, and sexual predator.

~

They use “the birds & the bees” as metaphor for the ‘sex’ talk, but the bee queen has sex once, then spends the rest of her life laying 1,500 fertilized eggs a day until she dies, or until she doesn’t produce enough and is killed by her loyal workers who grow a new queen. Perhaps this would be a good model to use with British Royalty.

~

Our 4th year beekeeping – lost 4 hives hives plus 2 queens so far. Our 5th hive’s queen didn’t make it out of the queen cage so I drove an hour southwest yesterday to buy a $40 queen, hour back, then hour east to hive to put queen in, then back.. Our 1st year we harvested 120 pounds of most excellent honey… years 2 and 3 one small jar each. This is our make or break year – love bees, love beekeeping, but can’t keep putting hundreds of dollars into it for bees that never survive the winter

~

I worship the Great Vine.

 

heartshadow

Saturday, December 16th, 2017

Sisyphus in the Land of Sorrow

No longer waiting for my cream rise to top
nor my rock to not unroll
cuz that boat will never sail
in fact wasn’t even made
and its flag don’t fly
its tank is empty
its tires flat
and engine froze
no happy after fame and fortune
cuz unhappy race is base of game
no matter which rung you on
unless you let go
voluntarily
for real
and fuck fame
fuck fortune
live life
hug wife
pet cat
and of course
sip the coffee and toke the smoke
to set the yet for rising sun

– Smith, 12.16.2017

WINEDRUNK SIDEWALK: SHIPWRECKED IN TRUMPLAND
FIGHTING THE POWER SINCE JANUARY 20, 2017

Have another poem on Winedrunk Sidewalk — https://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/2017/12/day-three-hundred-and-thirty.html.

Editor Publisher John Grochalski is publishing a different poet’s protest post every day Trump is in office

 

creeps

Sunday, December 10th, 2017

Rushin’ Hands and Roamin’ Fingers

Dustin Hoffman, Louiis C.K., Clarance Thomas,
Bill Cosby, Harvey Winestein, Brett Ratner,
Donald Trump, John Conyers, Mark Halperin,
Roy Moore, Bill O’Reilly, Robert Scoble,
Chris Savino, Lockhart Steele, Gavin Baker,
Terry Richardson, John Besh, James Toback,
Judge Alex Kozinski, Andy Signore,
Russell Simmons, Steven Seagal,
Geraldo Rivers, Bill Clinton, George H. W, Bush,
Roger Ailes, James Levine, Andrew Kreisberg,
Ben Afflick, Jeremy Piven, and Matt Lauer
walk into a bar,

so the women locked the doors behind them
and burned it down.

– Smith, 12.10.2017

Have a 5th or 6th poem on Winedrunk Sidewalk this year… wee bit of fairy tale taste to this one:
https://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/2017/12/day-three-hundred-and-twenty-four.html


got my eyez on you

 

Skum Lord

Friday, December 8th, 2017


Skum Lord

Serving Up Our Country

Richard Nixon said
it ain’t illegal if the President does it.

George Bush admits killing
between 110,000 to 460,000 Iraqi civilians,
not the 1,200,000 estimated
so everything’s ok.

Bill Clinton claimed he didn’t have intern sex
cuz “is don’t mean is”
and besides a blow job’s not sex.

During his Presidency, Richard Nixon had
76 of his people indicted for crimes
55 convicted
15 jailed

Ronald Reagan had 26 indicted
16 convicted
8 jailed

George W Bush lagged with only
16 indicted, 16 convicted, 9 locked up.

Donald Trump in office less than a year
already has 4 indicted with 2 admitting guilt
gonna be a long 4 years

Clinton: 2 indicted 1 convicted 0 jailed
Bush1: 1 indicted 1 convicted 1 jailed
Ford: 1 indicted 1 convicted 1 jailed
Carter: 1 indicted 0 convicted
Obama: 0 indicted

Reagan’s soldier deaths = 17,201
Bush1’s soldier deaths = 6,224
Clinton’s soldier deaths = 7,500
Bush2’s soldier deaths = 10,946
Obama’s soldier deaths = 2,499
Trump’s soldier deaths = 4 in less than a year

Civilian deaths under JFk = ?
Civilian deaths under Johnson = ?
Civilian deaths under Nixon = 2 to 5 million
Civilian deaths under Ford = 20,000
Civilian deaths under Carter = ?
Civilian deaths under Reagan = 325,000
Civilian deaths under Bush1 = 50,000
Civilian deaths under Clinton = 300,000-600,000
Civilian deaths under Bush2 = 1,000,000+
Civilian deaths under Obama = ?
Deaths under Trump = U.S. Democracy

The Whiskey Ring, 1875, Ulysses S Grant:
238 indictments, 110 convictions – Republican

Teapot Dome, 1922, Warren Harding:
first Cabinet member to go to prison – Republicn

Watergate 1972, Richard Nixon:
69 indicted, Nixon resigns – Republican

Iran Contra Affair, 1987, Ronald Reagan:
14 indicted, 5 pardoned – Republican

Trump’s lawyer sez
it ain’t illegal if the President does it

– Smith, 12.8.2017


Little Donnie Dick

 

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