Don’t Wake The Sharks


Streamlined Silver with black button eyes.
Smiles with rows of scimitars and something dies.
Crimson billows thru warm sea water.
Marks the spot of this predator’s slaughter.

Sleeps while still swimming.
Their mental acuity only dimming.
Not as deep as ours.
In those salt water hours.

Across the universe they came.
The little gray men and their game.
Playing with Earth’s life.
Poking and probing with a high tech knife.

Abduction the name of their game.
Reckless experimentation their claim to fame.
Ruining lives and minds.
Searching for something they’ll never find.

Arrogant intellect and thoughtless disregard.
For humans and animals left mentally scarred.
Have turned their attention to aquatic life.
Sharpening up the scientific fish knife.

There’s something in the water a long distance away.
I can feel it from my nose sensors, voltage strays.
The humans call me a “Great White”.
To them I inspire fear and fright.

I’m thirty feet long give or take a few.
I weigh 6500 pounds solid muscle you knew.
I just got this way I don’t know how.
I really could eat a cow.

A twitch of my large tail.
Sends coral spinning over the shale.
On the edge of this deep trench.
I glide over a shipwreck bowsprit wench.

Smiling up at me with blind wooden eyes.
Realizing from the depths she’ll never rise.
I like swimming.
It’s got my shark curiosity brimming.

It’s good to be a shark.
I like being a mark.
I’m a good problem solver.
My instincts work like a revolver.

I can focus my attention down to a pin point.
Nothing gets into this food-fish joint.
I’m locked onto this distant disturbance.
I can look around while my autopilot homes in accordance.

I don’t have to think to swim.
I just make corrections to the trim.
To my meals I am the dark and the grim.
I am the harbinger of the Grim Reaper’s hymn.

The water density ahead is changing.
I am within sound ranging.
There’s a large dark object ahead.
All the sea life around it has fled.

I am cautious as I am hungry.
Strange antenna and bulbs in sundry.
Makes the water feel bad going over my gills.
I’ll have to start using more shark skills.

I swim back a ways into the deep.
Cruising thru kelp fields I creep.
Where the water once again tastes sweet.
Like a submarine you don’t want to meet.

I see funny gray little men with bulging black eyes.
In stupid looking suits killing reef fish of every size.
Poking and prodding them sticking things into their eyes.
I can hear these fish when they die.

One gets loose and swims towards the kelp beds.
Two of the grays are following him on a trail of red.
I am waiting, I am waiting.
I am hating, I am hating.

Come closer, come closer.
You underwater Poseurs
.I am your death bolero composer.
I am the deep sea’s dozer.

Come closer my bug-eyed friends.
I’ll give you something a lot worse than the bends
I turn my tail loose in the kelp fields.
Rocketing towards the grays my jaws wield.

Rows of razor-sharp teeth shinning in the sea.
These dumb-asses still haven’t seen me.
One looks up blank-faced and staring.
His mental probes at me pitiful and blaring.

Thinks he can stop me this way?
He can’t make it thru my shark concentration today.
What was he thinking anyway?
You silly gray.

My four foot mouth ends his bad day.
He doesn’t taste very good sad to say.
At least the humans aren’t this arrogant.
Their fear of me is elegant and relevant.

A putrid green icor colors the water.
My contribution to this extragalactic slaughter.
The other gray is fleeing the scene.
I can’t let him live because he’s seen.

Me at my best it’s what I do.
I think I’ll have a chat with a shark or two.
Then all us sharks will know what to do.
With these grays and their measly few.

I think the humans will like us after all.
When they see how we made the gray men fall.
We are the oceans eternal sparks.
And please try not to wake the sharks.

Dave Proffitt
8/20/2013
1:25 am