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-- word biscuit --
-- only one toe in spring edition --
03-21-98 -- ray heinrich
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the dog just chewed a hole in my matress cover.
what can possibly be next?
-ray
< winter guest >
moving
as it does
the sea ice
its gray fragile tons
and in the wind
the salt taste
of its dust
this sea
with its tides
cannot freeze true
always opening and closing
don't step out there
but soon enough
the steps
become a mile
and the shore
there is no shore
just a border
to the sky
- - -
-from the movie "winter visitor"
< promises >
with its little steamings
the hot tea promises
- - -
< maybe one less lawyer >
"wasn't she the lawyer?"
my first thought
waking
not remembering
the headline
the story
lost now
probably re-cycled
i brush my teeth
and shower
and try to find some clean socks
"mother of five dies in car accident"
she lived
three blocks away
i met her a few years ago
when one of my dogs ran off
and a few more times
at the supermarket
surrounded by kids
and sometimes a husband
a lawyer?
one of them was
- - -
< land of promises >
the tv's not listening
as it speaks to me
but i answer anyway
it's another day
in the land of promises
- - -
< love song >
-for douglas
ah we had our way
on the champs-elysees
the one they had
down at the mall
i was the one
with the mouth you adored
while you
were the king of us all
- - -
< we know so much >
a door
to be gotten through
one foot
and another
the twist of a handle
then opening
leaving
all we did
all the sad words piled up
having
to be waded through
us
and that door
while outside
the sky sweeps
but what does the sky know?
the sky always sweeps
and the clouds
must do their part
like us and our words
one after the other
and we know so much
we know our first kiss
from our last
just how to love
but don't
- - -
< in the isles of supermarket >
today the sea is filled with us
in the isles of supermarket
and my mom sings the muzac
as we go on our journey
and the bright boxes call
and i'm young
and haven't learned yet
not to listen to them
but my mom keeps me safe
(though she puts back the boxes)
as we journey together
in the isles of supermarket
- - -
< needed >
needed:
actors
to tape the truth
for my enemies
and bathe me
in fine lies
bright
(and filled with concern)
to paint me
just a little gray
and not forget
to kiss them
and lend them
clothes of white
- - -
< Basic Patents > (dog diaper)
-from an url michael sent me:
http://www.dog-diaper.com/
The patents of the dog diaper
are basic patents
because they comprise
structural features
not contained
in prior designs
which only propose pouches
placed under the tail
which produce friction
against the anus
and do not prevent
the leakage of waste
outside the pouch.
This pouch
on the other hand
provides an entrance
encircling
the root of the tail
and the anal region
of the dog
and a top portion
formed either
as a sleeve
or straps
which are effective
in holding the pouch
by overlying the tail
and in association with it
keep the pouch
away from the anus
and allow enough room
to comfortably
discharge the waste
and to avoid
leakage
or friction
beneath the tail.
The issued patents are:
U.S. Patents: 4,537,153
4,779,573 5,146,874
UK Patent: GB2,187,374
Canada Patent: 1,254,456
EPO Patent: 0231171
German Patent: P 35 84 520.1-08
Belgium Patent: 85903909.1
Luxembourg Patent: LU-85 903 909
French Patent: EPO 0231171
Switzerland Patent: EPO 0231171
Australia Patent: 586828
- - -
< a polka poem for my dad >
a polka poem for my dad
who i never loved as much
as i could have
and never mind why
there're always good reasons
for everything
and i have a few as well
but not enough
never enough good reasons
so dad
this is for you
written
as i sit in the dance hall
watching
you and your sister
dancing to the polka
that won you that contest
in Texas so long ago
the one
i burned your only picture of
- - -
< paranoid >
those helicopters
on the ridge at night
and your uncle
with his pictures of aliens
it was you
(when we were kids)
who warned me
santa claus
was keeping count
i envy
that your days and nights
are never empty
that someone
always has you in their sights
- - -
< busy busy busy >
the rock of commerce
spreads its legs for me
as i strip the flesh
from another child
(a simple kitchen knife will do)
- - -
< love >
a fine point
that as it enters
offers joy
as we bleed to death
- - -
that one toe:
< just look at that flower >
just look at that flower
passing through these fields
is that you?
or me?
- - -
well, maybe two:
< a sign of spring >
spring's getting close
i saw my first group of evangelicals
in front of the student union
with their pamphlets
and an athletic middle-aged man
in a "God Hates Sin" t-shirt
waving his bible like a banner
and calling the students who walked by
"fornicators" and "whoremongers"
and a large poster in back of them
painted in blood-red flames
and wailing faces read:
"GOD Loves You
Obey or Be Damned to HELL"
which makes the best ending
but i need to add
that the person
who stopped on a rainy road
last november
and helped me fix my car
had those same jesus stickers
all over his truck
- - -
and after spring:
< hot afternoon >
in the hottest flush
of the afternoon
of course of course
it must be june
so we must wait
to rhyme with moon
in the hottest flush
of the afternoon
as the pudding eater
sucks his spoon
and the maid of hearts
she sweats her tune
she dries
the pudding eater's spoon
in the hottest flush
of the afternoon
- - -
_______________________________________________________________
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
get to feeling 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 original publication date. anything else requires
my permission which might be obtained (depending on what
mood i'm in) 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, ALWAYS read and
LOVED as proof that someone out there acknowledges my
existence, but not always responded to which is a greedy,
selfish act on my part which i'm trying not to commit
quite as often, but if you want to take your chances or
if you're a healthy, independent sort that really means
exactly what you say then just go ahead and send anything
you want 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...
newer stock bio:
ray heinrich lives in the washington d.c. area. for many
years his work has appeared quite randomly in and out of
cyberspace. a while ago, in an effort to avoid the constant
and usually futile bickering with the editors of various
publications, ray decided to publish himself in his own
"word biscuit e-letter". now it's worse.
older 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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