Thursday, April 18, 2024

Who The Flux Knows?

 Shadow Lane
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith, Cleveland, OH 

Large old rescue dog at my feet
wish I could be as content
or prance in such joy at walk time
not sure which of us is creakier
has worse arthritis
our main differences are
kids love to see him
and I don't shit in the street

A light here
a light there
a lot of dark between

Oh Great Guru on mountain top
what say you to lower lot?

Nothing is always
and always is always nothing soon

In sun and shadow, rough and smooth
whatever your angle, you snooze you lose
 Second Self

Deep low slow pull
big weight freight train moan
always going never coming

I am Sisyphus
I am rock
I am hill

(aren't we all?)

I live on the corner
of Random Ave and Marginal Drive
just off Lost Nation Road

(fog in fugue of chance and choice)

I'm no Johnny Red-Toes
dipping his boots
in others' blood

(backup beep of Reality repairing itself)

I keep my needs simple
a sip of water
a sit in the sun

Out there
persistent rooster tries to raise sun
under constant Cleveland cloud
Stage Fright

From water
to land
to atoms
to ashes
we went from pointy sticks
to nuclear fission
awfully fast
for folk who understand neither value
nor mission

Error Error willful one
404 logic not found
go to 420
From the Future

Riding off into the sunset
82 mph
one hand on the wheel
low on gas
no destination
just enough time to get there

Almost dusk
rooster still crowing sun up
clouds 1, chicken 0

Okay flux, here we go
into the body of the body beast

Rooster cries "rise"
chainsaw growls "die"
both wolves feed

Why does day run on so
why isn't sleeping time longer?

Underwear is put away
some hanging things are hung
my work here is done
Bottom Line

Some days you could use a little extra edge
like another year of sleep
or an endless cup of big black coffee
with a sticky cinnamon bun
on a quiet street in Amsterdam
back before the plague
before the dead mom and the new live wife
who's likely saved my life at least twice
so far physically
more literally
the why and how of how I'm still here
who the flux knows
but she's part of it
plus me being old bird tough
and of course luck
always luck
lots and lots of luck
and maybe just maybe me making the gods
often, deep, long, and loud
for which I'm grateful
and, as always
a fool in fuel of fussion
 Last Touch

Today’s LittleNip:

The wind is cold
the day gray
the sky wet
the fireplace is warm
the wife wonderful
the two cats and one dog
it's a good life



—Medusa, with thanks to Smith (Steven B. Smith) for more of his jammin’ poetry and fine look-sees as we cruise through April, fools that we are…
Ape Planet

A reminder that today is
Also, at noon, Third Thursdays
at the Library read-around

takes place; then at 5:30pm,
El Dorado County Library
Poets and Writers Workshop

meets at the Cameron Park Library; 
this evening in Sacramento,
Roberts Family Development Center
will hold an open mic at 6:30pm; and it’s
Crocker Art Museum Open Poetry Night
with Andru Defeye & Coon the Poet, 7pm.
Also—today is the deadline
to register for
Gillian Wegener’s presentation

in Livermore this Saturday afternoon.
For info about all these and other
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
 during the week.

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.

Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
 into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
 to find the date you want.

Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to 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!