Much Like YouSHARK

Logan Ryan Smith

A C K N O W L E D G E M E N T S

The first six pieces from this book were originally published(under this same title) as TINYSIDE #27 from Big GameBooks. Many thanks to Maureen Thorson, publisher of BGB.

This book was first printedin San Francisco, CA,by Logan Ryan Smithin a limited editionof 100 for the2nd annual*dusi/e-chap kollectiv.

This electronic PDF version has beenformatted so that you caneasily print this book yourself.Just put a few staplesalong the left-hand side &

Walla!

Design & layout by the author.

MUCH LIKE YOU SHARKCopyright © 2007Logan Ryan Smith

All rights reserved.

theredgummibear.blogspot.com

MUCH LIKE YOU SHARK

0Logan Ryan Smith

Much like you sharkI meet the world harmlesslybut in bad weather and murky waters,shark,in the noise of the blue openskyscrapertree-lined city street chatterchatterchatter-box teethinglittle gums ringed with blood

like you,tiger shark,kicking shinsworking my way into othersby accidentby mis-directionnot choosing my wayor how the blood poolsupwardtoward the surface

and how my teethtigersharkbend backward in the grief of this

and howI continue to move

all 5 senses served up on the guttermouth each tootha burnt out little nub of a sometimesinhabited buildingsometimes floodedwith mannequins and fishout of watertraumatized as lightning satisfiedwith gravity as isand laughter in and out rattlingeach black nubrotting the mouth

at certain times of the year young albatrossI am again smooth and bluewith white underbellyand heightened senses sensingyou somewhere near the surface shadowplayshadows play shadows swim and shimmerirresistibly off the coast of South Africa

and from the depths of sinking lightI manage my magnificent bodymore manageablethan previously realizedtoward your scant shadow tiny profilesmall webbed feet stammering

and knock you for a loopbecause I can’t help myself

I find myself larger than I am and floating in oxygen and light

Ia drinkerand lover of the dark

We’ve all stood at the shore and ruinedour lives from time to time crunchingsand dollars for the sound andpoking at the dead glassy jellyfishwith the ends of our shoe

have watched the line out there broken

have seen ourselves as bait amongst bait

and how the line breaksit breaksand will break

then there’s still time for others

bus linesairlinestrain tracksand old age

the thorny scratch\and metal cut

some way backand some way to end it

in the crowded parking lotthe chicken hawkcorralled a blackbirdwith beak and clawcaused cars to stopand watchthe medium-size birdstop and strugglewith the littler birdtake off and landdig deeper forforeign screamsand take off again in gravitynearly bumping off of windshieldsbefore stoppinglateron the highway

Like a heistI keep my belly full

I exist on the existence of others

and the ceaseless ceaselessness of ceasing

a town, a citya few buildings

a gridin anelement

that works against movement and formsmuscle tissue around the skeleton

but somehow talking doesn’t strengthen the vocabularybreaking the horizon

a dark and purple line and hazea green and blue and grey and blur

a need to continue in movementand break the linefrom time to time in a split second

the separationand splash

the fleshy mess

Either neon blue or pitch black will dowith constant movementsome kind of never-ending

magic, in the way things go up

from down here

as bubbles go up from the veinsto the heartto the brain

and make all fall down

and down

the rose in the throat

the floating seabird feathers

it’s dock timeor the Super Bowl

excusesfor gluttony

come here my babies mylittle water-winged teethed things

my phantasmagoric etymologymy mystical unbalanced heavy-

headed things my glorifieddoppelgangers, foolish

slap-stick comedy characters mysaddle-weary city walker bloody

mary shit talker dangerous deepblue-eyed water fountain steep-

le chapel houred sands fromthe Atlantic and Missouri

the ample acts of falling overbut never floating

needs a recoilin reaction

a call to the polls for inaction

pieces of people loston the planet

is possiblelittle bird, little shark

little faceslooking

accordingly

inorganically things sproutupwith organically manufactured material

the consistent circlingsigns signalingno left turnsand lightsgoingonandoff

a leap

from the dirt on the ocean’s bottom

a little spank

in the water gardenof our bodiesthe red sometimestakes over the blueand the vesselsstill move

big bottomshovering above

sometimesfluster us

causeheadbutts

migrainesovercrowded

dizzinesswhat

with thesehuge shadows

movingslowly

over usas clouds

keep pacewith the glass-

sided buildingsa looking-glass

reached onlyby other looking-

glasses acrossthe way

with blue and whiteshifting their shades

along the bottomthe curvy floor ripewith bottom feedersscurrying side to sidebeneath my bellyoutside the windowcrisscrossing theintersectionavoiding thesway of trafficand the pedestriangazeI keep my eyes moving overthe tops of headsbeneath the shadow of cloudstumbling abovetumbling downfrom the lighting workingoverthe blueI keep my eyes movingover the scuttling bodieseyeing their limbsthey take for grantedI swerveover themunnoticedand only for a sniff

sometimes the panic reins in

sometimes the dying form a line

sometimes I think myself hideousand find myselfluxuriously swiftand giftedamongst the hammerheads

how quickly I bendand turn

a complete 180at the snap of your neck

and how this brings me closer to otherslike mewho like metouching themwheneverI decide to bendand whicheverway I move

distant disgustI can travel thousands of miles in a dayjust to get to you

like you sharkI find my desiresovercome my will

I willbe consumedby my needs

trollingacross the globeto get you

from the shores of JapanI may roll up deadon the sands of the Hawaiian Islands

what ifI were grabbed and held on my backtill I drowned?

what if the big fat hookrips my face in two from the insideof my soft pink cheek?

a red cloud to engulf me

I don’t hear a sound

I just feel things

and what if my limbswere twisted ina plastic net?

and what if my gutswere splayed and spilled out for themonto a metal table?

only then could they keep me from you

you for whom I move so quickly thru the blue

little shark,little shark,with your finpiercingthe surface of the water

with such formsuch smooth and perfect skinyou fitperfectlyin the water

with what grace comes what power

unlike youwe are plentyavailableto be takenagainst our willin our own environment

these weak and awkward bodiesthese stunted teeth and painful jaws

how sickly we all seemcrowded in the streetat a partyor in the bar

with our sick glancesand sidearm touches

how stupid we arenot owning what we hold

such feigned control, unlike you shark

but I’ll prowljust the sameand boast aboutthe sizeof my brain

Ionlywant a taste

I’ll move quickly upwardwhen you want me

but I’ll go downfor a taste

beforeI piercethe surface

before the water splits for meand I flyfor a few seconds

I want to take your body with mewhile I go down

away from endingsuntil youor Idrown from it

and we leave the surfacetension waking

much like you sharkwhen they find mybloated bodycrumpled upin the gutterand they roll me overto cut open my gutthey’ll finda bunch of rotand junka lot of thingsI had no business putting in me

but I’ll speak nowI’ll speak for you and mesince it’ll one day be our innardsthey’ll be judging:

I cannot claim that I didn’t know betterand I never meant to hurt a thingbut I cannot explaindesireanymorethan you can cause time to stop

Time to stop.

oh how I just wanted things to slow down

a pound of flesha lopped off heada counsel in the water

the dead die deadthe health of fishthe parable of disaster

what cracking of bonesdoes to my mobility

what the cracking of yours does for you for me

I wish I had none in me

the guilt I get

the way I have to fight

how quick I am despite my heavy conscience

the sun goes upthe sun goes downthe sun comes up again in the morning

I sometimes don’t know how to love in a worldwhere things don’t float I turn into a shark and moveamongst the grey and blue atmosphere and neverwish for the reign I’m in a constraint of tin and fleshof blood that keeps moving keeps me moving I’mbreathing in breathing and I wonder about those onthe line between the fish and birds the big shadowsfalling over and staying in place arms splayedreligiously religiously adhering to the vocabulary ofup and down and distance

it’s the blood that keeps on moving up

not us

it’s the atmosphere

not us

it’s bubblesall bubbles

all bubbles bubbling up

first in the lungsthen the mouth

then the blood which boilsout

Much like you bullsharkI can move from fresh to saltwaterscan challenge myselffrom time to timecan bring relief to my childrenin the shallowsthat are clean and safe

butfrom which building do I house myselfis hard to say

in movement that distortsthe movement of automaticbreath

but like you bullI’ll run at anythingred or greenand never wonderwhat’s the game

but always sureI never intendedto hurt you

or pull youapartfrom limbto limb

in anunease

of asso-ciation

from fleshto air

the bloodflies

with bitsof muscle

tornfrom

the movingskeleton

and when I rip your face from your face from your noseand your skulland your skin from your arms your forearms and bicepsyour triceps and wristsand when I rip the muscle from your legs the calvesyour thighs and ankleswhen I tear into your stomach your liver your intestineswhen I test your ironwhen I manage ironywhen I strangle your memorywhen I finallywatch the blood move upfrom my sorrowfulbackward teethand take you downinto the heavy light losinginto the blue giving waywill know howit happenedthe constructionmapped outin milky red floatingsoaring slowly upwardwe’ll see blueprintsin the redascending

when standing againwe’ll watch the ternsturn and scurry

as we stupid birdsget pulled under