______________________________________________________________ -- word biscuit -- -- everyday edition -- 02-18-98 -- ray heinrich ______________________________________________________________ well what do you know, here it is again... -ray < the dog > the dog at the window squirrels again - - - < shakespeare > my dog is a bit like him he writes a lot of stuff while i need another carpet - - - < self-publishing > i've tried and tried but i just can't bend far enough dogs are lucky that way humans need civilization - - - < how we sang > the day at its end a song sung we dressed in our hands cautiously wrapped in our faces deliberately armed with our voices willfully - - - < my god > my god lives in trees is puzzled by churches changes life daily and shares creation with anyone who's interested - - - < moonbone > the dogs (the wolves) oh how they howled as i pried you from their teeth and threw you far from their teeth and how they howl tonight to see you soaked in red - - - < her feet > she's counting toes that wiggle as she goes - - - < easygoing > in my whole life (so far) i've only met two people i couldn't get along with so i killed them - - - < where uncle ben went zen > to the left of this tree a few feet (say ten) is exactly where uncle ben went zen now to the right just past the rock is that pond with the fish us? we ate him delicious! - - - note: Fukagawa, in Edo, is where Sugino Sampu, a wealthy merchant who sold live fish to the Tokugawa shogunate, gave a house to Basho (i.e. uncle ben). A large Basho tree (Japanese banana) in the garden was the source of his pseudonym. The old pond in Basho's famous hokku: "An old pond: a frog jumps into the water, the sound" may have been one of the man-made ponds there in which live fish were kept. < gotta pee > an old bank lobby busy speaking of wealth and security never notices me trying to find its toilet - - - < unqualified pornography > the first time you were all thumbs but towards the last you fixed them quickly to those crosses while i just sat here wondering how much it hurt it was only later long after they were dead that you began to fill their mouths with words - - - < what i could do with a replicator > not more hangers jeez where did they all come from? or plastic grocery bags... but i could make a thousand dogs so that neighbor of mine i don't like could have more turds in his yard but with each dog barking for food at the same time i'd have to make more me's just to walk and feed them though the vet would be happy until i made more her's just to vaccinate them and sell me more flea dip cause those fleas have their own - - - < skies > skies usually have things in them and usually it's the usual and today it's no different no martian space ships hundreds of miles wide no meteors ripping past just seconds away from incinerating the square mile i'm standing in not even a tornado just these clouds impossibly white in the sun and a few birds flying - - - < romance > she burns herself with her cigarette accidentally again and i'm across the table coffee between us soon we'll compare suicide attempts ah romance - - - < roses > on mornings when roses bloom my grandmother's rose garden is still there my grandmother sings: "oh the days when roses flair roses roses everywhere the petals fall they kiss your hair on the days when roses flair" - - - _______________________________________________________________ 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 and don't forget gift subscriptions for your friends, enemies, and relatives. 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.back