abgitatz

Nice!! Support! Shoulder to cry on!

Hint: They like to be pet!!

That beat poet was Allen Planz. One of the greatest American writers that no one has ever heard of. Check this one of his out:


Sharks


1

At night they come true.
>From offshore
they come when darkness
rises with the tide,
my time, strength, thought,
all but my life theirs
for the taking.

A jolt: the strike.
The dream of the surface
shatters and knits
to the shape of a creaeture
moonfishing, spraying wisps
of phoshor, its wake
a seamed hump of fire,

and I yield, as it dives
downtide, to a power
that cn launch any being
netted by air and blood
for the wind to house
since heaven will never,

if not in measured test
let slowly erode until
the moment of straining
against each other, dead
still, each curved

back into its darkness,
darkness against darkness,
viviparous, terminal.
The moon commands things
of fear to dance, first
apart, then together.


2

Once, surely by trainining,
maybe by nature, I killed
this slick of muscle
two yards long, raced
from the nave of white meat
its guts luminous

with junnk, ate of the flesh
my flesh flinched from. Now
I have another ambition,
Bulldogging it back
I hold on to the tail

while it swallows strength
of a darkness I know
only when gliding in surf
as in sleep, having
learned in danger
to commend myself

only to myself, predatory
ascendant, at that threshold
we are now locked in,
forked, finned, sensing again
the tides arterial
assault on the reef,

the glittering impress
of a menhaden school
panicking, the gasp
of poylp and tumultuous
sonar of plankton...
until we surge apart.

And I rise, caught
by the air, into all
surfaces shining my moonlight
where nothing is still
and the darkness is one dance,
one life, one love.