WHERE THE SHARKS SLEEP
By Zac Dunn
Art by BIZ56
Published Issue 115, July 2023
The 2×4 face he wore was firm and correct
His crippled grip slipped on the
Cold metal surfaces
Cast of ore
Dug from the
Blood red dirt
Anvil to the hand on purpose
As a gaggle of gnomes feed him
appetizers and refreshments
Grimace sucker punched the Grinch
Knocking in his stupid face
Like a rotten pumpkin
SLOWLY FILLING
THE GOPHER HOLE IN YOUR SOUL
He exclaimed
Salacious relations
Tinder moments
So sloppy yet ambitious a
Peppermint swizzle
stick of longevity
morosely moaning and
Meticulously manhandling
the mushy membrane
So plump and round yet profoundly
Red as a slappy anniversary
Mercifully serving a meanerval
Crown made entirely of
Hot wing bones
Haphazardly thrown by filthy paws
Double six and six three
Double eight and snake eyes
The Bucktooth bandito rolling low
In the hearse turned the corner and
slowly let out three words
FUDD PUKE FEET
Then ate another peyote button and
Leaned further back in his seat
Luckily the passengers would all
Slumber forever and ever
As the night crawled forward
Into the Everglades of the misty morning haze
He removed the sleeping beauties at the end of the pier
and slid their cadavers into cool blue expanse
eyeing the fins breaking the
liquid surface’s plane
A thrashing conflagration erupted as they
Consumed the flesh he’d gifted to them
As the sun slowly rose
Casting an eternal shadow from the
weathered wooden tips of the dock
The mighty white sharks all
Turned and ran silent then deep
To the quiet depth
Happy to be full today
And free to dream tomorrow
With their eyes wide open still
Slinking ever lower
To their safe quiet space in the ocean deep
Swimming closer and closer to the place
Where the sharks sleep
Zac Dunn is a psycho-social mechanic, father, musician and dreamer. Check out his music and follow him on Twitter and Instagram.
Check out Zac’s June Birdy install, Cod Piece of Cake, or head to our Explore section to see more of his work.