In the Beginning
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith (Steven B. Smith), Cleveland, OH
The snow drops
the sun shines
the dog messes the yard
Pains come
not all go
accumulation tango
Rock, meet hill
hill, meet rock
I'll be your server today
the sun shines
the dog messes the yard
Pains come
not all go
accumulation tango
Rock, meet hill
hill, meet rock
I'll be your server today
Firedance
SOLAR PANEL INSTALLATION
There's strange men on our roof
dropping heavy things
drilling and hammering and talking to each other
happy, laughing
pulling long black metal things up with ropes
turning off our electricity
in old Less-now-More-later scheme
they climb past windows
creep basement
poke holes in house for their fertile wires
such crude beasts
rude
following their programming
offering nice smiles, friendly nods
men strange, strange men
strong in game of planet safetime
for Borg-Babe geek of Wife
dropping heavy things
drilling and hammering and talking to each other
happy, laughing
pulling long black metal things up with ropes
turning off our electricity
in old Less-now-More-later scheme
they climb past windows
creep basement
poke holes in house for their fertile wires
such crude beasts
rude
following their programming
offering nice smiles, friendly nods
men strange, strange men
strong in game of planet safetime
for Borg-Babe geek of Wife
Persephone’s Winter
Used to try to pick up wimmins
by sidlin' up and whisperin' in their ear
"I've got the Creature
and you've got the Black Lagoon
wanna do the sequel?"
but it didn't work
never even got damp
by sidlin' up and whisperin' in their ear
"I've got the Creature
and you've got the Black Lagoon
wanna do the sequel?"
but it didn't work
never even got damp
Angst
Driving through fog
real fast
fuck resolution
Got no cud
so I chew my kid
laughter all around
Trying to kill myself
by living one more day
then another
I'm alone
with me
I need better company
Me
the cold
the fool moon
I want to be smoke
rise into nothingness
slow disappear
Short wait at long light
turning in the fog
going nowhere
Winter
You know the bad guys
(the old white rich male 1%, the MAGAoids,
the Repugnants, the way-too-many Corporations)
are aware they can't win elections by voting
because we outnumber them,
so they cheat,
that's all they can do,
they pass laws to uncount our votes,
they tell their diminishing and diminished voters
to show up armed at the polls,
they attempt a coup . . .
they're on their way out,
but they're kicking and screaming and scheming and stealing
for all their worth as we flush them from the system.
Going to take years to clean up their stain.
And you can't blame them.
They've fed free at the trough for centuries, millenia,
are too fat and fogged to survive in a fairer environment.
Cheat's all they got.
Sacred Ritual
VIGNETTE & VINE
Awaiting wife in parking lot
I watch old woman
winter coat black pajama bottoms
patterned with white sheep
creak out of driver's seat
and slowwalk into store
In too long a time
she returns with young woman clerk
and they pull small table
from backseat
Clerk examines all sides
top and bottom
nods her head with happy chatter
carries it inside
woman returns to driver's seat
She sits there 10 minutes
not starting car
occasionally moving hand in sun
head in shadow
I need her to leave
so I can play with their faces
in my own circus ring
She gets back out
but is now a frail old man in jeans
the black sheep pajamas
a calf-length coat with white horses
He walks around car
opens passenger door
adjusts something
gets back in
leaves
I'm thinking alien lifeform drop here
Maybe old woman alien brings piece of furniture
to young she-clerk to mate with
their progeny becoming abstract end tables
in podpeople houses
collecting data for Sky Gauze
After furniture exchange
old woman alien sits awhile in front seat
reporting in while transforming to human male
for next mission
It's almost obvious
Ladybucks
HAPPY TRAILS 2 U
I wouldn't be silly today
if I hadn't dropped so much psilocybin along the way.
Now keep my silly sighs in silly sigh bins
sometime try em on for sizes.
My fame is secret cuz nobody knows
(cuz everyone nos).
Looking through the Zens, trying not to focus.
Ahhhhhh . . . clean body, clean bed, clean sheets new fed.
May thou flow go well, swell be thee and thine.
Forever Santa
Today’s LittleNip(s):
The trouble with subtlety
is they don't hear
the fuck you
* * *
My fuel
is fear, death, anger
led by laughter
The trouble with subtlety
is they don't hear
the fuck you
* * *
My fuel
is fear, death, anger
led by laughter
—Smith
Next Full
_________________________
Humble thanks to Steven the Sisyphus Smith for fine poetry and visuals on this St. Patrick’s Day, 2022! Like the rest of us, he’s rollin’ the rock right up that hill, trying to make sense of it all (a fool’s errand, for sure). Hang in there (hang up?), Smith—keep leading us by laughter! (God knows, there's plenty to laugh at these days...)
•••Tonight (Thurs. 3/17), 7pm: Poetry in Davis presents Jabez Churchill and Kathy Brown, plus open mic (4 min. or 2 items), at the John Natsoulas Gallery, 521 1st St., Davis, CA. Host: Dr. Andy Jones. Please mask your vaccinated selves before entering the Gallery.
_____________________
—Medusa
—Photo by Smith
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
