______________________________________________________________
      
    -- word biscuit --
    
           -- everything and a few sonnets edition --
    
                                      01-05-98 -- ray heinrich
  ______________________________________________________________


    ain't it just like a new year?
    -ray




 ==== first a leftover xmas poem:




          < nativity scene >


       and then there was the dog
       the one they kept telling
       to be quiet
       lay down
       stop barking at the star
       the one
       licking the kid's feet


                - - -








 ==== then back to the usual:


   
        < mainly white >
        
        it's mainly white
        the cold
        comes in second
        
        it's so white
        it takes a few seconds
        to notice the cold
        
        coming out the door
        the snow is so bright
        it takes your breath
        to remind you
        how cold it is
        
        there should be some music
        the snow can move to
        music
        to make this a movie
        that needs an actor
        that lends
        some importance to the footprints
        outside the door
        
               - - -








        < what some boys dream of >
    
        some boys dream of 
        girls who bring breadfruit
        (so ripe the skin splits)
    
        girls who bring toast
        (with their own jam)
    
        girls who bring oranges
        and pomegranates 
        and 
        big 
        round
        jelly 
        donuts
    
        some boys 
        will dream about anything
        as long 
        as there's a girl in it
    
                - - -
    




        
              < got lucky >
        
        we are hungry and our waitress 
        who would rather serve us
         
        rats
          
        settles for something 
        a little closer to what we ordered
        
        not
        out of compassion
        
        just
        out of rats
        
                  - - -
        






 
           < maybe of you >
        
        a voice
        a breath some late afternoon 
        a shadow 
        maybe of you
        in early winter
        in a long slant of light
        
                - - -
        
        




   
      < too many small things wrong >
        
        too many slips of paper
        too many words
        too many notes about notes
        about what needs to be done
        that turn up
        when some pile of history
        tips over
        a stray foot 
        on its way to the bathroom
        catches 
        and suddenly
        spreading across the floor 
        magazines
        and papers
        and you
        in your tight round letters 
          
                - - -










  < how many republicans does it take to have sex? >


            who knows...
            they're all still back there 
            fooling with that light bulb


                       - - -










    
                 < signs >
    
      roger steals them so he's got plenty
      refuses to pick a favorite
      cathy does hers with two fingers
      ray's is that low one 
      you bump your head on
      paul liked mine for a while
      but now he's back on highway 61
      rachel makes hers up as she goes along
      (though by night she's always the moon)
      pat is one
      doesn't need another
      sandra just uses her smile 
      it's got her this far she says
      toby's is that star 
      you know the one
      alex swears he doesn't have one
      (he keeps it in the freezer 
      under the tuna-noodle casserole)
      jeremy's joined some club
      that says there's only one
      nancy wears hers 
      on her finger
      philip has one so big 
      he has to keep it outside
      kathy holds hers up above her head
      usually while it's still beating 
    
                    - - -
                           








     < intelligence >


       if your brain 
       can truly lie 
       it's big enough 
       to qualify 


          - - -










            < wrong again >
    
        i think that i shall never see
        a poem as stupid as a tree
        oh wait
        oh my
        i guess i'm wrong
        (at least it wasn't very long)
    
                  - - -
    




        
 ==== now we enter the dog section:




             < those dogs! >
 
      they should be required to register 
      as metaphorical agents
    
                 - - -


      




          < dogs eat faeries >
                             - for Toby*
        
        faeries are always teasing dogs
        it's part of their tradition
        and a dangerous one
         
        cause dogs 
        eat faeries
        
        to a dog
        a faerie is a tasty snack
        and though
        only one dog in a thousand
        ever catches one
        there are hundreds more
        who swear they have
        and of course 
        the faeries
        do nothing to dissuade this:
         
         "aunt Aine
          oh what a scamp! 
          she teased that doberman 
          in St. John's Wood
          every day for years
          and he never came close
          who would have guessed
          that Mrs. Arnold's  
          little poodle
          could move so fast"
          
        so most of the barking
        you hear
        the barking
        that when you look
        there's nothing there
        
        it's faeries
        
              - - -
        
        
      *my poodle.  the only dog i know who actually 
       catches squirrels.  he's probably eaten a 
       faerie too, but hasn't told me cause he 
       knows i'd disapprove.
       
      
 


    
    < the most holy church of the yearly penny-dog >
    
      to become a devout member of 
      the most holy church of the yearly penny-dog
      throw a penny out the window
      (it doesn't have to be yours)
      and bark like a dog
    
      this will get you in good with the spirits
      for a whole year
      and while it's not the best religion around
      the results are comparable
      and it 
      sure is cheap
    
                         - - -








    
  < the most holy church of the yearly penny-dog FAQ >


> Ray, does it matter when you throw the penny out the window?  
> And is there any yearly "day of celebration"?  
> Is a new penny the best, or are there certain "better years"?  
> How long should you bark for?  
> Is  there a "preferred breed" to imitate?  
> sincerely
> ms. B




         < oh those humans >


    it seems that through the years
    (being that humans and all are involved) 
    the holy church of the yearly penny-dog
    has split into various factions
  
    the universalists say 
    any day is just fine
    for throwing that penny
    but the pluton's insist 
    it should be 
    on pluto's birthday
    the republican's 
    require a quarter 
    stolen from the poor 
    and the poodlist's 
    that it must be the bark
    of a dog that doesn't shed
    and they all say
    (except the universalists)
    that if you don't do it their way
    you'll end up
    with poop on your foot


              - - -




> Should you adopt a secret "doggie name"?  


   i have, but i don't think it's necessary, just fun.
   and no, i can't tell you, it's secret.


> Can I tell my dogs about this?  
   
   they already know.
    
> or will they think it's some kind of 'cult'? 


   sure they think it's a cult, but they aren't 
   surprised as they know from long experience 
   we're pretty crazy.  but being dogs, they 
   somehow find this an endearing quality.     


> I've heard that cats are into some weird stuff..


   my neighbor has cats, knows something about 
   this, but refuses to say more.  some nights, 
   it's pretty noisy over there.
   -ray 
  


  
 
     
==== upon leaving the dog section we find:




            
             < k-y jelly >
            
            greasing 
            the gears of love
            
            lubricating 
            the lips of desire
            
            oiling 
            the pistons of passion
            
            and it doesn't taste that bad either
            but still 
            it should come in chocolate
          
            so we could 
            
                   - - -










           < morning >
            
            as simple 
            as opening
            an eye
             
              - - -
        




    
                < visiting home >
    
    I was visiting home on one of those visits 
    that doesn't work out just like you know it 
    won't but you go anyway because you've started 
    to believe in some of your fantasies like 
    finally getting something straight with your 
    folks or maybe with that first love of yours 
    who you hope is having as hard a time of 
    it as you are so you'll both discover what 
    you knew all along or (at least) get a good 
    fuck out of it but you end up talking to 
    people you aren't interested in and even more 
    people who aren't interested in you but at 
    least (besides the weather) you can catch up 
    on who's died like this time it was Richard 
    Kelley (Mr. Kelley to us) who a few months 
    before his death started coming back to the 
    high school, walking into his old classroom,
    and teaching whoever was there about the 
    war-between-the-states or the building of the 
    trans-continental railroad and i bet he was 
    still pretty good he was the best teacher i 
    ever had. 
    
                      - - -






  
==== and finally, a few (re-cycled) love sonnets:






    A Few Years Later:
  


    You were the first woman to notice me
    (I thought this while looking at 
    my first man) -- when we were young
    you were forever looking into mirrors.


   "I am scared to look in mirrors now",
    you said talking to a recorder while 
    looking out a window: "I love you"; 
    but your words were slowly bleached.


    By now some years had passed and I 
    came home in time to watch you leave; 
    to watch you walk along the gravel road
    and ask the question you had always asked:


   "This blood, how can there be so much?" 
    (by now it was a few years later).
    
                 . . .




    


    
        Loneliness:
        
      
        Loneliness --
        I am in love with your beauty.  
        How many times have I come to you 
        with some fresh loss
        and been comforted 
        by your clear sorrow,
        been cradled 
        in your spare arms.


        As the desert enfolds its wisdom
        with the blessing of sand;
        you hold your love for me
        in a single point
        that as it enters
        is as warm as sun.
        
                  . . .
        








        Summer Love in Spanish:


         
        On the beach in mexico the heat of the sun is too 
        much, so I lie in the shade of an old soft drink 
        stand.  It's not a popular beach, so close to the 
        power plant, but it's close to my dad's office. 


        I'm here visiting him, my terrible spanish getting 
        a little better, walking the streets, just looking,
        reading the signs, ordering pan dulce; it's so cheap 
        and each bun of this sweet bread is beautiful. 


        So every morning I go and buy a bag 
        of it and eat it the rest of the day
        carrying it through the streets, 
        looking at the signs, trying to read 
        them with my dictionary, writing letters 
        to my mom never mentioning you.
        
                        . . .
       
    




    Anything Like Moonlight:
 
    Sometimes love asks us not to be furious 
    but we are victims of emotion crying through 
    these little words because there is no help 
    for us in this life there is only this and
    it seems too weak too far away to be of use 
    the boat becomes a raft becomes a vest 
    becomes a piece of wood becomes a wish made 
    drowning becomes a dream in death where we
    are walking through the woods at night 
    asking to be guided in the dark to anything 
    like moonlight or a place to rest and when 
    you turned I saw your eyes that led me to this
    place you are the moon in me you are the spot 
    of peace that must endure as I must drown.


                     . . .






 ==== oh, and this:




    
      < unconditional love >
    
        unconditional love 
        was all among us
        until she saw 
        my toenail fungus
     
             - - -




  _______________________________________________________________
    and...


    all registered subscribers to 'word biscuit' have my 
    permission to publish any individual poem or poems 
    contained within it (or the whole dang thing if you 
    feel like it and of course you can make copies and send 
    them to your friends) so long as you obtain no commercial 
    or barter considerations in exchange for such copies, 
    it's not part of any pro-republican campaign literature, 
    and you do it within two years of its publication date.  
    anything else requires my permission which may be 
    obtained by writing to me at: ray@scribbledyne.com


    if you're not a registered subscriber and would like to 
    receive 'word biscuit' irregularly (of course it's free), 
    just send an email saying something like yes to: 
    ray@scribbledyne.com


    back issues can be found at: http://wordbiscuit.com/
      
    all this is copyright 1998 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 though 
    the shirt i have on has a quote on it from noam chomsky
    and some chew marks left by a small, obstinate poodle.


  _______________________________________________________________
                                end


    well, almost...


    stock bio:


    ray heinrich is an ex-texas technofreak and hippie-socialist
    wannabe who writes poems for thrills and attention. over the
    years his work has appeared in many small, insignificant 
    publications.  in real life he repairs computers, has always
    been married, loves dogs, and owns a blue fish.




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