______________________________________________________________ -- word biscuit -- -- father away edition -- 06-15-97 -- ray heinrich ______________________________________________________________ what? -ray one of my dad's favorite poems: < the dog and i running through the forest > running a crooked path like it was straight the dog and i cruising clear at top speed through the forest after and ever after we run while comets come and go and stars live out their lives and flare and die and here we are the dog and i running through the forest - - - < my father told me > republi-can'ts, but we can run about in the liberterarium making social-lists of all who fall through the democracks - - - < male father > fully dangerous he is the hot pistol that amazed my mother and he is looking at me right now laughing as i try to find a way to impress you men of the life of my father i invoke your names in fear and distaste and respect i am slipping again into shotguns and dead animals around fires and whiskey my dream is of taking that shotgun to your football helmet your aftershave your knives and boots and to all your goddamn jokes about sex and woman but i need your hug as well furry with body hair and caution - - - < shedding my skin > lots of guys have it done for them without anesthesia just days after they're born my dad said: why pay them good money to cut off part of his dick? mine works fine the way it is thanks dad every once in a while you're right - - - < for mom and dad > so when did i get to thinking what wrong process has me censoring the poems i send you where did i get the idea that i came from anything else but the certain joy of my father's nail-hard cock meeting the wanting mouth of my mother's cunt - - - < how far away it was > i'm standing over my father in the hospital he's stopped breathing i'm holding his neck and shoulder and i've been rubbing them because he always liked that and it's the best i can do while i'm waiting for him to die waiting for his next breath and it comes and another and then i'm waiting for his next breath again and i count one thousand and one one thousand and two one thousand and three like he taught me standing in our garage watching a thunderstorm on the gulf coast of texas sometime when i was maybe six he taught me to count between the lightning flash and the thunder taught me to figure out how far away it was - - - < maybe next lifetime > some clear morning i plan to wake up with nothing before me and as i open the door and stare and ask where has it gone it will be then that what i recorded will come back to me just what i thought i deserved what my father kept telling me to expect but i kept fighting him hitting him as he hit me oh these males are such kids and i was so busy with this i forgot to ask him forgot to listen enough so i turned and listened to my own ignorance and i listened deeply and followed its instructions for 29 years but then i saw what you meant just in time to hold you but not in time to make any of this up to you well maybe next lifetime - - - _______________________________________________________________ if you know someone (yourself too) who would like to get word biscuit irregularly (of course it's free), just send an email saying something like yes to: ray@scribbledyne.com you have my permission to copy and post this issue of word biscuit so long as you obtain no commericial or barter considerations in exchange for such copies, it's not part of any pro-republican campaign literature, and you do the whole damn thing including this stuff at the end (or you write to me and ask first). old issues can be found at: http://wordbiscuit.com/ and all this is copyright 1996 & 1997 by ray heinrich and the free state of dogs. comments are very welcome, send to: ray@scribbledyne.com and i'm not wearing any pants. _______________________________________________________________ end back