logan ryan smith

Where I Came When I Was Married

so I’ve thought

It’s exactly like this is tit for taught


unbalanced unbeamed unthought


sound out sound loud I can hear you scream

it sounds like sound the wedding bells ring

OH jesus

this is is is not boot camp is

oh good how it is not is

but if you think
about it
you it for a while are because

if you think
are is

but through out I’d like to think

hello good to meet you 

this won’t grow old in a new town now
front lawns manicured
for the lawyer’s consent

have the total unsubmission I oh no oh is forgot
gotten into the worst cases
I’ve cased myself in in the case of cases
and I caress
because I love a whole lot
and I like the touch of skin
and moon
and the blue of the light is through gazebo light blue gone soft
it is only light and only
under the un for there no one gone no no no one gone

like this

you have thirty seconds to answer
and leave

left leave leaf triple eee leaf Montreal
it is in Canada

it is there where there is AHH

and OHH

um how to go from here her hair under there the
mantle piece
it is secretive
and sensitive
and not easily misplaced places are placed in places

it is really horrible
how difficultly simple I find everything


it makes me want to quit

the spreading chestnut
you motherfuck

how to unthink for I’m in under the overhead


gone is
my simple thoughts though thoughts think stupid


unable my ability makes me sick

I’m capable of everything and the city is bright and big is this

is is over swervey curvy lover

o hot shit
O this is what poems is

it are for this I go for you my loved

oven mitts and catfish sticks stucker stick

how on the microwave you fit the refrigerator magnets next

unperplexed our children sit high
they are high president
today perfect

set the table sits

cable television

oh fuck where’s the baseball game my whole world holes-in-hold
o hold on on  for the gotten in the glove

I have spoken
with the manager

I’m still in

I’m sure that I have plenty of innings left you looper


this is not far from over

and where have you been

this is likely to have gone on forever ever after mother under the table
get up

it’s not funny anymore the dogs don’t even bark

fuller gutter fucker
the way the grate would ask

it’s a good
I’ve plenty of children?”

you think
I should have babies in the woods should have in

where’s your lumberjack

where’s the ax to cut the thing from you for un oh


I think I think this is not always
what my dad calls poetry


but this
ufff ooo
it hurts like a motherfuck
I’ve got this ache in my neck and in each knuckle

oh nickel
fist first

meet me in the back seat set suck fuck oh damn well please

bye the garden well
by the garden wall

meet me by there

we’ll talk
you and me

yes fucking you

you heard me didn’t you

meet me by the ocean wall

I’ll call out sand sunned in Sunday teeth
I’ll call out cabby cab under the café roof come to me oh come

it is not bye example I lead my lead rope
roped the dope there in the shower
you’re cleaned
by the hope of a good person that
believe in

sounded by the back of your throat
you say:

and there were things
under President’s fingernails
that sounded like tea is ready

ding dong

oh get the fucking door

in the council
you had your hour
in the town
you found that there was nothing left but cooking shows and time
for making babies

why’d you have babies for

because I like to fuck

why’d you have babies for you knew not to ungot the married sorts of knots

I thought it’d be fun

oh let’s all get married!

I’ll meet you in the park

you bring a ring I’ll bring a ring a ring a ding sing my ring is lost

I’ll marry the fuck out of you anyway I love you see

this = love

I have always thought this is of is are to be is too are not god under


unto myself as I Have under myself You

it is oh so sexy I feel hot now

This Is A Happy Valentine’s Day Poem

I hoped you liked it un up oh I oop I
Hoped unto un
I hope oops I oh my good god ud
I hoped
for the sake
oH this
is MY
Greeting CARD
think it is done
now I have made
You for this

I think you’re wonderful

Christmas lights

I’ve got your nose

have you NOticed

I’ve given notice to the foreland landlord that I got out
a couple months before
I was born

It was what?

Shit Logan I thought you thought
but You’re very very stupid.

I don’t think there was music theirs there was it?

oh too many twice-time questions

I like to do that because I’m not smart

where were you when I was born?

I was born:
SEPTEMBER 16, 1977
1:57 P.M.
Kaiser Hospital, Sacramento

where were you and what were you thinking?

I think I was thinking

I think this is what:

oh light what light is this oh light I wait now for music

that’s that that’s what I thought!

I think

good golly how Holly was hot
in Ramadan

I thought

but it’s never going to get old under the FM/
AM in the morning
I hear
my sound begin

in the morning the real sound begins
after my dreams and you dream and we’ve dreamt
and I think we dreamt it

don’t think it you under the chestnut remember

I sold saw owed you a dollar
kissed your bridesmaids
placed my fingers inside you

where the ring gets lost
where I look as always I do go down

weeding gown and sawdust

I saw you however I am a big fan of honey and the sickle and
a sick amount of sick shit my house is full

don’t ask

I like to talk dirty during sex and
forget I was born

forget it

I have no death to live

I have not shame same in the sea see it was there where they left me

I hear the ocean all the time
and it’s more disgusting than pretty

You think
You know

but you don’t and that embarrasses you as much as it does me
as much as me as is for the who are what is how?

you know

you think you do



I used to walk from Chantelle’s place
on 45th
in early morning
and see it done
off the sidewalk streets
with no real need
for afterthought

and that’s what I think
this is about

the no need for afterthought

the only
under over give in this is

it is there already

gone for the naught

I’d like to think

there where they move against the ocean

more gracefully than it

these people


where I leave people

and it’s over

and there’s the gracefulness nest of grace

it is not really given but accepted

I have walked along
city streets and thought

I am not holy

«±  ±»

logan ryan smith lives in San Francisco where he publishes the chapbook press, TRANSMISSION, and the now defunct poetry mag, small town. His first book, The Singers, will be published by Dusie Press early this year. A chapbook, this is affront you pig, is set to be released in the spring of '07 by Catfish Press. Two e-chapbooks, ghosts spiders &dogs, and, amber faint, were published by Detumescence Press ( detumescence.com), and a third e-chap, 2 poems from the bottom of the barrel, can be found in Dusie's 4th online issue. Recent poetries can (or will) be found in New American Writing, Mirage #4/ Period(ical), Bombay Gin, Hot Whiskey Magazine, Drill, Spell, string of small machines, and online at past simple, and Melancholia's Tremulous Dreadlocks; as well as in the anthologies, Bay Poetics (Faux Press), and The Meat Book (Hot Whiskey Press). He can always be found at theredgummibear.blogspot.com.




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