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...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 ‘Lady’ Category

5 Falls + 1

Friday, January 21st, 2022

5 Falls + 1

Well, wife ain’t crushed, and I’m not broken, maybe . . . though yesterday’s +1 seems to have my knee doing a swollen grapefruit impersonation, and one rib shrieking every sneeze or cough.

Many a fall in my life, but past two months seeded a bumper crop.

Cleaned our roof gutter, and as I stepped over the garden fence, my toe caught in chicken wire and I slow-mo fell forward, which gave me time to notice my head heading toward the raised paving bricks.

Hit head and knee hard. First thing I checked for head flesh gash. When 10, I jumped a low block wall and landed on a block behind it which cut my leg in a bloodless V down to sun-bright bone, which in fascination I touched with my finger, amazed how white and shiny it was. I expected to touch skull.

Had head blood, but no gashes, so checked knee. Couple years ago I broke my kneecap and the bone didn’t knit, so kneecap’s held together by fibers, and if I knelt on it, I’d be in eye-tearing pain for weeks. Luckily I hit just below the knee so again spared major damage.

Then two weeks ago a cold snap froze the water running across a Metropark path, then dusted it with snow, so I’m walking the dog an hour before dawn, looking for deer and fotos, writing poems in my head, and — WHAP — foot hits snow-dusted ice and I’m on my back on frozen gravel, in the dark, on a seldom-used path, in considerable pain, thinking it’s too cold to be lying here, let’s see what works, and slowly rise, functional.

Fall 3 is the scariest. Sitting here reading, I hear a thunk 3 feet to my right, look over and see black cat blur racing away and think “oh, she knocked something over,” and then brain freezes trying to understand why the 40 pound ceiling fan is lying on its side on the floor in front of Lady’s chair. The fan had broken away from the cathedral ceiling and crashed into the easy chair in which she’d been sleeping half hour earlier. Had she been there, she’s dead or broken.

Reality really tried with sneak-punch 4 & 5. Snowstorm hit 3 days ago, and I shoveled for hours, safely. Then took the garbage and compost out. At the garbage cans I looked at the 50 foot of snow drifts between me and the compost pit and decided to drop it in the trash instead . . . but then my brain says no, that’s not right, the 8-Fold Path preaches right thought, right action, so I walk through snow, step on an icy flagstone and smash to the ground on my right side. This is hard. Seriously painful. Slowly see what works, manage to rise, decide to dump compost in trash after all, take one step and step into the fish pool that’s totally covered in snowdrift, and smash even harder on my left side, pain overwhelming, knowing pain this intense means bad news because no way you can hurt this much and not be seriously damaged.

I begin to see what works, turn on my side, unsteadily rise, slow-step into the house, and tell Lady I have to sit a bit before I can check if I’m broken. And I’m not. Only damage besides bruised muscles is a 9 inch blood scrape down my right forearm, and a 6 inch blood scrape down the left. Pain is so great I feel nauseous.

The next day is fall free, and I’m exhilarated that I’m alright, absolutely astonished.

And then . . .

Yesterday morning I’m carrying my toasted bagel on a soon-to-be broken plate as I walk through a dark room where our 120 pound golden labrador is lying unseen right in the middle and I smash chest first into the floor, managing to turn my head so I land side-skull instead of face first.

Smashed my never-healed broken knee, which looks quite grapefruitish now, and I bone-bruised or cracked a rib. A cough brings sharp pain, a sneeze tears. Had many a cracked and broken and bruised rib in my time so know you wait them out, hold the rib tight when you sneeze to reduce pain, and take smaller tokes so you don’t cough.

These falls are more worrisome because I have bad bones — osteoporosis.

Before fall 6, I told Lady I was writing this up as Five Falls, and she said better watch it doesn’t become the 8-Fall Path, which brings me to the humor here . . . I decide to do the “right thing” as I see it for the 8-Fold Path, and I get hurt. Something doesn’t gel.

So there, it’s written as 5 + 1 . . . this means no fall # 7 allowed. Time to stop this ridiculous sitcom, the Gods have their portion of laughter.

One odd thought is I’ve been slowly losing weight past year, for no known reason, going from 165 down to this morning’s 149. Since I’m doing these falls from my 6′ 3″ height, those extra lost pounds probably help hurt me less.

Another fleetflash thinking is the film Final Destination where some young folk get off the plane that’s going to crash, which irritates Death, so he hunts them down and kills them one by one . . . spose reality is trying to fall me into quietude?

Maybe it all goes back to Eve and the Snake. Or me on the make.

Half horror, half slapstick, whole Smith.

Lady’s chair, ceiling fan fallen


waterglass window

Tuesday, November 30th, 2021

Commissioned a stained glass piece for Lady’s Christmas present from Contois/Reynolds Studio.

Steve Reynolds and I’ve been friends for 50 years, since Loyola College 1971, which is my seccond longest relationship after Mother Dwarf.

Met Reynolds in Baltimore, then he moved to West Virginia for decades, and finally to Spokane Washington . . . which is funny because I left Spokane in 1963 to join the Navy. What a weird web reality weaves.

It was going to be a flaming sun piece, but Lady requested water because of Lake Network, her web design business (honoring Lake Erie).

Love the piece. It glows in soft light, reflects the fireplace at night in low light, is a major presence, and literally lights up the room.

Here’s a foto tour of our living room . . . art by Reynolds, Lady, Cat Smith, me.

For stained glass —

For web design, enewsletters, and social media services –

Website Design and Digital Marketing in Cleveland | Lakenetwork


maybe not finished, she sez

Wednesday, November 24th, 2021

Lady’s new poem (maybe not finished she sez):

And this morning I am the uterus supporting a placenta attached to a castle in the ether in which sets the nodding crown consternating jewels of tildes and asterisks and beating itself with willow branches.
I am ground talking about itself. I used to think I was grown but I was ground up into this fecund habitat like a good virgin burger.
I can’t complain for the dog and the cat shoot over the cultivated hills like two minnows or the commentary of passing clouds and Liberty runs through the garden, Queen of Nature. Grandma sheds golden coruscations through the mirror’s plasma like the insight of a sparkling veil. Grandpa’s thunder rumbles in the distance.
The Goddess is in the poison ivy again; she so loves her garden for isn’t it bedecking of her feet on the plush flock of moss, her taut arm curling its oval finger to smell the hibiscus’s hymn? Her nose is Mona Lisa. Her mouth is Uma Thurman. Her partner documents the copious comings and goings of seasonal crops.


reading – Michael Joseph Arcangelini and friends 10.6.2021

Wednesday, August 25th, 2021
Michael Joseph Arcangelini of California sez he’s having his “first in person poetry reading since the pandemic began, and it’s in Cleveland!”
He’s reading October 6 @ 7:00pm with friends Steve Thomas, John Burroughs, Shelley Chernin, Marc Mannheimer, Adam Brodsky, Terry Provost, Russell Vidrick, Charles Cicirella, Ben Gulyas, Smith & Lady, Steve Goldberg, and Chris Franke.

M.J. Arcangelini and Friends


ex-plantlady Kevorkian

Tuesday, July 27th, 2021

Lady used to call herself the Plant Kevorkian cuz she killed any green she touched, which is odd since Green is one of her maiden surnames.

But since we moved into this 140 yr-old house with a bit of backland, she’s taken up gardening and landscaping. She’s begun slate paths, built a brick patio for our beehive, dug a small fishpool, is bricking the firepit area, and is growing all kinds of plants, flowers, fruits, and veggies.

This is our first winter-spring-summer here, and she’s already transformed the place. Who knows what next spring will bring.


Lady’s latest

Saturday, July 24th, 2021

Rhythm a.m.

The snake flick of the lighter’s tongue
its reflection in the window
firey eyes glint

Husband cups warm orange light
in the cradle of his hand and pipe
all the wrinkles of his wisdom
squint to suck a flame

He ahems some coughs
lights the pipe again

Dog raises head

Husband consults the clock
flicks another glint
rocks forward
says alrighty
time to walk the dog

He blows his nose
The dog skittles his nails
on the Tylenol groan of
foyer floor

The door slams like
the thump of a book
Bells rattle
Windows shake

Now it’s just my invisible
silent breath and the tick tick
of the clock’s swinging pendulum
They’re on their walk
and I am alone

– Lady 7.24.2021


1-page Lady comic

Tuesday, July 13th, 2021

A 1-page comic by Lady: The Lucky Sevens.

I come across as crazy in this one.


How We Hookd Up, 4-pg comic by Lady

Monday, July 12th, 2021


Lady started doing comix during our 2006-9 living outside the U.S.

Here’s the 3rd of her 4 comics, titled How We Hooked Up. Could be from southern France 2007 or Mexico 2007-9… post 4th comic tomorrow.

This one begins “When I first heard Smith I thought he was one sick fuck. His poems were filthy. But admirable. He came to readings wearing 20 year old enigmatic t-shirts and black jeans and reeking of marijuana. He looked like an extra for Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.”

So she can’t say she didn’t know what she was getting into when we hooked up 16 years ago.

Click on link to read comic; the link for succeeding pages at bottom of each page.


she do out, i do in

Sunday, July 11th, 2021

Doing chores this rainy Sunday… I’m washing the bed sheets, cleaning up the kitchen dishes, charging the batteries and our doorbell – while Lady is out in the garage trying to organize the chaos from our October move… bit of gender reversal here.

3rd foto is one of her collages — The Smithsonian Experience
2nd is with her rescue golden labrador Marlowe
1st foto I can’t remember



3-page Lady comic from southern France 2007

Sunday, July 11th, 2021

THESE 3 fotos are parts of the comic pages click on link to read comic

Lady started doing comix during our 2006-9 living outside the U.S.

Here’s 2 of 4, from when we lived in southern France for 2 months in 2007… post the next 2 one-a-day.


THESE 3 fotos are parts of the comic pages click on link to read comic


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