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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,
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5 book covers

Tuesday, September 29th, 2020

Was asked by Joe Vecchio on Facebook to post the cover of a book that affected me greatly, one book a day for 10 days without explanation.

I looked at what others did and each one explained they were asked to post without explanation, which is explanation, so I didn’t… plus, I seldom do requests cuz I don’t play well with others’ rules.

But while packing to move to our new old house, I shot these books – so I’ll do half the 10, all in one day, with explanation. See, I’m a reasonable lifeform.

Reading this right now. Excellent. Love this man’s poetry.

Tried once again to read this – no go, not worth my time or its trouble – and I’m a William Burroughs fan.

This is the book that gave me my Agent of Chaos name. Melissa J Craig shot a video of me in the late 1980’s where I was passed out drunkon my studio floor and this book was lying next to my head.

I was so impressed with this that as soon as I finished reading its 1,012 Basho haiku, I immediately reread it. Genius. The haiku master.

Perhaps the greatest book title ever.


2019 art rent envelopes

Friday, May 15th, 2020

Past few years I’ve been arting my rent envelopes before I slip them under my landlords’ door. (3 missing cuz theywere out of country)

Here’s 2019.


eye candy I, ago many moons

Tuesday, January 7th, 2020


Lady’s latest

Friday, October 18th, 2019

A few shots of Lady’s latest art piece… some in process, some done.

Zazzy Sadie, 2019, Lady, 26″ x 30″ x 6″

Octopus, lips, labia are air-dried clay, blues and greens are copper corrosion.  Title chosen by on-line random-number generator.

She did this atop an 1997 failed piece of mine. She’s taken 5 of my long dead pieces, torn stuff off, added a bunch more, going directions and giving dimensions I’d never thought of.


daily blog now down to every 2 weeks it seems

Friday, March 30th, 2018

Kathy Kieth, publisher/editor of the daily changing 365 poetry/art posts per year that is Medusa’s Kitchen has been generous enough to grant me a monthly feature on her site. Started December 2015, and here is episode 28 – March 2018- 10 fotos, 9 poems, 1 song:

This is my first Medusa’s Kitchen feature that will not be in my upcoming book – all 243 poems they’ve posted from 2015 thru last month will be in Where Never Was Already Is out on John Burroughs’ Crisis Chronichles Press April 1st. The book also contains 29 pieces of art and links to 28 free songs… 5 of the poems are co-written by Ldy K, and 1 of the collages is hers.


Was challenged on Facebook to post an album a day for 10 days:

01 – In C, Terry Riley, 1968
02 – Gris Gris, Dr. John, 1968
03 – Ekstasis, Nicky Skopelitis, 1993
04 – Home of the Brave, Laurie Anderson, 1986
05 – At The Center, Meat Beat Manifesto, 2005
06 – The Best of Blue Note Years 1947-52, Thelonious Monk, 1991
07 – Positive, The Grassy Knoll, 1993
08 – Ice Cream for Crow, Captain Beefheart, 1982
09 – Lady Sings the Blues, Billie Holiday, 1956
10 – Moondog, Moondog, 1956



Happy is
farm 62 years ago
wild grass and flowers
between the wheat and woods
lying on my back
sun on face
eyes closed
buzz of fly
lowing cow
chicken cackle
whick whick of windmill
distant drone of dog bark
and propeller of plane
growl of tractor
people miles away
no there where to be
all here
all now
all me

Safe is
four years old
lying on back in back seat
soft glow of headlights
and dashboard light in night
late 40’s car swaying side to side
motor droning
tires moaning old highway
parents protection in front seat
no fear
no where
no why
no safe since

Now is
CEO crooks
death by cop
rape by priest
thug in White House
customer killing corporations
dying body politic
cancer water
cancer dirt
cancer air
movies music TV
no there
no fair
no fly

– 3.23.2018

~ ~ ~

A Persiflage Anent Chanticleer

A light-hearted talk about roosters
seldom brings light

They bray day
believing it their say

They cluck fuck
until egg laid

They call it capitalism

– 3.24.2018

~ ~ ~


The trouble with roosters,
the smaller they are
the more vicious they become

In the corporate world
it goes both ways

– 3.24.2018

~ ~ ~

Don’t Look Back

There are dark things that live in caves
and real trolls beneath real bridges
that’ll eat you
eat your brother
your sister
your parents
your dog
some of them aren’t even monster monsters
just humans mis-wired or mis-raised
the bad side of Darwin
trash compact
low class low act
it ain’t personal
it’s just you’re food
and they’re hungry
or inadequate
or bored
maybe it’s karma
you’re eaten by what you once ate
so you move up or down the food chain
reborn soft and chewy
or teeth and chomp
and maybe it’s pure chance
you’re here
hungry stomach’s there
juist the way it goes
nothing to worry about
but you might want to get
some good running shoes
rear view mirrors
and say your prayers to the players of fear

– 3.28.2018

~ ~ ~

A String of Pearls

Clean sheets
New made bed
Bathed body –
Joy drops in the sorrow

We weep when a child is born
Make merry when they die
From freedom to prison to freedom they fly

– 3.30.2018


hook ‘n line

Tuesday, August 15th, 2017

hook ‘n line

Philosophy 151

There’s could
and should
and is

– Smith, 8.15.2017



the book of wonder

Saturday, October 8th, 2016












The Book of Wonder
8 pages, 2 5/8″ x 3″ closed, 5 1/2″ x 3″ open
Lady K. Smith, 10.7.2016

She did two poem/art books yesterday. Second one below.


Sisyphus Mist

Crawl slow and deep
from slink of sleep
to thick awake
to foot the fog of day
till sleep’s return
in constant loop of voodoo rue
we do do oh so well

Pour black coffee down dark hole body
reboot mind to lighten way

– Smith, 10.8.2016









How to Care for Tropical Fish
6 pages, 8 1/2
Lady K. Smith, 10.7.2016


the Sisyphus bus

Thursday, August 11th, 2016

contractmy life contract

Sisyphus Bus

Unsunned sky a dark slate of potential
until new light wipes the board
with daily do be done

Night train whistle moans of maybe
dreams down the road
where fare is fair

In magic dark before dawn
foe may be friend, fright fun,
flight merely daily run

Hoist my mind to better place
exchange minus for plus
board the Sisyphus bus

– Smith, 8.11.2016

noshitno shit, Sherlock


serious stuff in frivolous form

Saturday, July 16th, 2016


Bad dream number now.

Starting to remember my dreams again after a week unstoned.

This morning’s pre-dawn dream took place in an amalgamation of Mexico, Florida, Greece, the terror attacks n France, and the film Brazil.

It was a huge city and all was night, the colors muted, dim murky browns and grays, even the light was dark, or rather the sad lack passing as light – more like medieval torches.

Kept touching my wife to make love but she was so busy she didn’t notice, and when I told her, she looked around in shock at the flux of surrounding people and said it’d be months before we could be alone.

We were separated while I looked for fotos and grass, neither which appeared. People tried to help me but made things worse. I worried wife would be worried and tried to call her on my flip fone, but the zero kept disappearing. Asked people to help and they’d point at the fone saying there’s the zero’s right there, and it was, then they’d vanish and I’d try to dial with no zero. Finally realized I didn’t have to dial, could go to contacts and punch her name, so of course the contact button disappeared.

All this time there are fires and gun shots and rioting in the streets, authorities shooting people, mobs running in fear as I wandered on.

I didn’t feel fear, just worry for wife and serious frustration I couldn’t dial the fucking fone.

All the people were dusky-skinned except wife and me . . . don’t know what color the shooting cops were because they were wrapped in riot gear.

Like to remember my dreams because they give me a feel for my emotional state, plus they’re frequently surreal and fascinating when they’re not boringly mundane. Think I have some issues.

Lady said she wants to go downtown during The Republican convention. I told her it’d be unwise because it’s going to be white Nazis with guns and police with guns and Republicans with guns with protesters in between and people were going to be hurt, be killed, be locked up — she said, oh, I don’t believe any of that’s going to happen. Sometimes I wish I lived in her world.

So at some point, even though it’s illogical and dangerous, we’ll ride our bicycles down and hope for the best, hope we’re not arrested for watching, hope a stray bullet doesn’t say hello. She’s an innocent, thinks all people are good, while I see good and beast.

I’m in a foul mood due to dream and money and worry about cat’s health and wife’s health and my health and the business stress wife is under and the political darkness creeping our nation and how I can’t do anything about any of it except spin my grin and hope for best as worst eats inside.

So many of us and the world in a dark place, I know I’m not alone, but being an unsociable hermit twit, my misery doesn’t love company.

What Doesn’t Kill Ya

Looking for the funny
but it hides behind the money
which done went to town

Need some peace of mind
but it laughs at my kind
says get behind and push this mud
down the road

I talk but no one hears
so live disgruntled fear
stumble through the tears
as toad

As frog I seek the kiss
to lift from this to bliss
but discontinued Princess

Can’t protect my loved ones
see dark instead of sun
my tries seems never won

Rexroth unannoyed
sez heart’s mirror hangs in void
I see good and beast

So put one foot in further
seek some good discover
forgive forget the other
and carry load

– Smith, 7.16.2015

Just realized I frequently say serious things in frivolous forms.



May 1 & 2 2016 Lady Poems

Monday, May 2nd, 2016

May 2

Your fingers walk the table of our talk
You play, your clay set in motion

Blood weds bone
God’s in the shoe

Out there where we could be using time
Rain sprouts copious baskets and
Knots arrive from roosts
Like television static

May 1

Subliminal absorption background sound, our green promise like the edge of an eyeland coming into view. A bit of star exploding into leaf to reach for itself again.


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