Thursday, August 19, 2021

Precious Cargo

 
Yellow Submarine
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith (Steven B. Smith), Cleveland, OH
 
 
 
GLOW GO MO-FO

My computer sound card died
the day Prince did
so I could sit in silence
and respect his sound.

That sexy mo-fo
could cream a kiss
blender bliss
excite this this
speed slo-mo
slow the go
and re-gender is.
 
 
 
Flight Plan
 
 
Womb-born
worm-worn
remnants of a while ago
 
 
 
Sunspot
 
 
DOGWALK MORNING

Big creek
small stream
size matter

Wind whisper
leaf in tree
lullaby to low

Crow calls
order from high
unaware of higher

Train in distance
meadow middle
mellow me
 
 
 
Exaward
 
 
FLESH WORSHIP

She's walking the golden calf
struttin' her stuff
mything muff

Leave it to beaver
but life will cleave her
heart to heat to hurt
 
 
 
Get Air
 
 
GOLDFINGER

My dead mom’s ring
on my live wife’s hand.

I’m wolfen to wifen
who keeps me off-grid and on the griddle.

We’re Potabella and the Beast,
she the pretty fungi, me a wary wild.

We are our only child,
walk the sunny side of the beat.
 
 
 
God’s Eyes
 
 

PABLO PICASSO, DIED

It pays to heed occasional squirrel whiles

Poor castle cast-off
My heart does not knead for you
Your warped eye whispering
Spawns demon shadows only
Alone
Within your hairy benobbed frame
Need not be
Repeat
Need not be

Red-naped realities abound
Need not abide
Squirrels imply
 
 
 
Bad Road Ahead
 


OLD FAN NOTES ON 1962 WCW

Leafing through 58-year-old copy
of William Carlos Williams'
Pictures from Brueghel and other poems
I rearrange the previous owner's margin notes:

Only if Amy & me lost everything separately
could we be useful together again

A stutter step from an MD
required to be as invasive as a priest no matter what

Medical report: She died of death
cross horse mucilage

Dance is the measure
the Sisypuss of fuck
female spiritual hand-off from the pagans
(any with a tan Mexican Barbie doll?}

If you say one can't go to the country
it's because you say he can't go anywhere

Roads don't grow like trees
holy communion hamburger
force that thru the green fuss pothead poets

Pictures of beauty are beautiful pictures
and not beauty or beautiful
the wholeness integrity to me's
from the coordination of all the fractured facets of a life

Pure whole design in your art if unaccompanied by
a coordinated correlative correlated private privacy
is scattered

Art is a symbol and thus partial
fractured art + ? kind of privacy can = wholeness oneness beauty

More terrified of women & thus a lover of many
WCW wz a fixer & a watchman
& mean

Walkin’ in Memphis
You a Christian?
Baby I am tonight
 
 
 
Motherwell
 
 
Bone gettin' weary
worry gettin' woke
but at least I'm in on the joke
 
 
 
USA Drugs
 
 
 
Today’s LittleNip:

Precious cargo
wife asleep
in passenger seat

—Smith

________________

The mighty Steven Smith is here today, clearing the smoke from our eyes and setting a few fires of his own. We’re mighty grateful for his visit to the Kitchen!

________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
Persephone's Dance











 





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