______________________________________________________________
      
     -- word biscuit --
    
                      -- dog fart edition --
    
                                         08-19-97 -- ray heinrich
    ______________________________________________________________

    it happens,
    -ray
 



  < simple gesture >

  so the end of day 
  takes us

  some of us
  
  gray
  clouds and such
  laid out before us
  
  we eat the fingers
  of children 
  too naive to know

  and later we exchange 
  a look
  a letter
  oh
  we know how to make this 
  into entertainment

  as our poor flesh
  drops
  all our sorrows and questions

  we caught the unknown
  the unexpected
  while we tried to talk 
  to someone next to us
  to find 
  our answer 
  in a simple gesture 
  of flesh

          - - -







     < life is its own metaphor >
      
        this cow 
        on the other hand
        just shit on my foot
         
               - - -






      < a pig in shit >
                  
  i was as happy as a pig in shit  
  when i yelled at you 
  to get your shit together
  when i said 
  that you had shit for brains 
  when i could tell you 
  to eat shit and die 
  when i 
  could go 
  ape shit
  over your 
  holy shit 
  like a pig in shit
  but 
  as they say
  shit happened
  shit 
  hit the fan
  and you 
  got off the pot
  and left me
  up this creek 
  without a paddle 

         - - -







        < made in china >
    
    i'm practicing my Chinese
    in a K-Mart
    i'm translating labels
    as i come to them
    this shirt says
    it was made in China 
    by people who believed in free speech
    and made the mistake of saying so
    and this pair of pants was
    hand-crafted in China 
    by a woman who mentioned 
    Tiananmen square
    and these socks 
    were produced in China 
    by a man who is gay 
    or maybe he's Christian
    my Chinese 
    really 
    isn't that good
    and this toy
    was assembled in China by someone
    it could have been anyone 
    who lived in Tibet

           - - -








   < the roach and the tampon >

     you don't 
     EVER
     want to hear this story

            - - -







      < doing my part >

    i chainsaw republicans
    into thin strips
    that when dried
    make excellent jerky treats
    for my dog

           - - -






            
          < the night >
        
        our temple
        well
        hardly a temple
        but it gives us shade
          
        and the desert
        and the sun
        and the day
        are what you'd expect
        
        but the night...
        
             - - -







         < interior decorating >
        
        this poem is a lonely room
        a bare room
        these words 
        are it's only furniture
          
        this poem is an empty room
        i'm trying to fill
        with the furniture 
        of these words
        
        this poem is an empty room
        i'm trying to furnish
        with these words
        
        well...
        
        no matter how i move them around
        it needs you 
        coming in the door 
        
                 - - -
                







            < dog farts >
    
    a few years back 
    we had a little brown poodle
    koko 
    (named after the cartoon clown) 
    
    now our black lab 
    could fart large 
    it took him thirty seconds
    to lay one down
    
    but koko was queen
    her tiny ones 
    had the strength of nerve gas
    
    their smell 
    made people jump up and run away 
    it wasn't something they thought about
    but a reflex 
    like jerking your hand off a hot stove
    
    one moment 
    you'd be sitting and reading
    and the next 
    you'd be across the room 
    wondering what happened
    (until your nose caught up with you)
     
                - - -







     < too much about faces >
    
    too much about faces 
    too much 
    you keep saying 
    you never meant 
    to pour the hot coffee on me 
    and my skin 
    is red 
    like sunburn 
    in galveston 
    the gulf coast 
    and texas in your eyes 
    and each of us 
    can touch 
    the scars we made 
    or maybe slap 
    it all depends 
    on how we feel that day
    and why we'd ever 
    want to do this 
    well 
    too much about faces 
    
            - - -







      < i lied about the frogs > 
        
        a frog turns gold
        in the sun
        
        in the hot sun 
        a frog 
        turns gold
        
        a frog
        rubbed gold by the sun
        
        watching the sun
        make gold frogs
        
        frogs in the sun
        frogs in the pond
        
        unless it moves
        a frog
        doesn't give a shit
        
        hot gold frogs
        shitting in the sun
        
        a gold sun 
        frogs me in the pond
        
        there are no frogs
        no sun
        no pond
        just words
          
        well...
        
        i lied about the frogs
        of course there're frogs
        
             - - -








               < writing >

  Doing it a lot makes it easier to say what 
  you're saying but of course you still need 
  a what and when you begin to get those working 
  you start feeling you have to say it to someone 
  and then more than one and if you do all that 
  you're not happy with it anyway and you end up 
  dying at about the same time so it's probably 
  better to go feed the dog and not get bitten 
  but if you were that sensible you wouldn't have 
  started in the first place and besides it doesn't 
  take that much time to feed the dog.

                  - - -






  
   < in this poem the protagonist shoots himself >


                     bang


                     -  -






        < resolution >
    
    suicide as a diversion
    from remembering 
    to renew your driver's license
    we got together
    on the anniversary
    as he shot from a distance
    but still managed
    as the head exploded
    caught on film
    no worries 
    about suicide here
    no dreams of
    resolution
    like driving over
    a laptop computer 
    while it does
    your income tax
     
           - - -
 






             < ashes >
        
        excuse
        means some small word
        said turning
        gone
        walking
        all these scenes
        repeated
        
        ashes
        
        i keep eating them
        
             - - -
        






       < blood >
    
    i'm trying to get beyond 
    the necessity 
    of its flow
    trying to leave
    its constant
    run
    and linger
    on the red
    my closed eye
    sees 
    when looking 
    at the sun
    
       - - -
    







         < sweet passage >
        
        it was waiting
        undiscovered
        waiting for me to find
        a bright door 
        a sweet passage 
        to you
        
              - - -



 
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    _______________________________________________________________
                                end


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