Post on 30-Jun-2018
transcript
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 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
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