______________________________________________________________
-- word biscuit --
-- dead squirrel edition --
11-02-98 -- ray heinrich
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glad you're still out there somewhere
-ray
< birds >
the ones that fly
straight into windows
not the ones that die instantly
but the ones that fall stunned
and not the ones that fall stunned
and shake themselves
and fly away
but the ones that fall stunned
and shake themselves
and fly a few feet
and shake themselves
and fly a few feet
until they can't
and only sit
- - -
< clothes >
this many shirts
a few less pants
and oh
so many socks
but still
it doesn't take
that many clothes
to wear a body out
- - -
< the point >
the fine point
of a word
might hurt
or not
a bare prick
a tiny drop
of tongue
engaged
on a bare neck
with just
a little pleading
nothing else
but your word
slit
letter to letter
nothing
could be better
- - -
< lament >
back home
(well, take your pick)
the toads are green
while here
they're the color of a brick
the tires though
are black
and as they hiss
are almost impossible
to miss
- - -
< blond again >
it's not to hide the gray
(though it does)
it's not because
i'm not satisfied
with who i am
(though i am)
that i need to pretend
to be somebody else
(though i do)
i just remember
this kid
with blond hair
and how
it got darker and darker
and how
for just $7.95
from Ms. Clairol
i can get
"Nice'n Easy
Drip-Free
Rich Conditioning Color
That's Healthy & Beautiful
#102 Natural
Light Ash Blonde
Level 3 Permanent"
and in just 35 minutes
i
can be blond again
- - -
< born in the mud >
shortly after the war
my mom gave birth to me
on a muddy road
somewhere
in the north of france
if pictures of refugees
returning home after the war
spring to mind
well
it certainly sounds like that
but my mom
was an american
who'd spent the war in the states
and it was only dumb circumstance
and some terribly misunderstood
directions in french
that led to this
- - -
< ronald reagan shoes >
ever since
my new dog ate
those ronald reagan shoes
his mouth's been crossed
his tongue can't flip
and he goes around in two's
- - -
< success >
please notice that the dress code has
changed and if you didn't notice
didn't you notice?
it was posted in your dream last night
right before you fucked
your high-school sweetheart
no
not the one you ended up with
but the popular one
the one
who never ate lunch with you
but made sure
to get your answers
to the history test
and now
years later
you notice
at your 15th job
that those same people
still
don't eat lunch with you
- - -
< still >
(followed by a list of things that don't seem to be moving)
- - -
< those shoes >
in the mail
a note from those shoes
you really loved last summer
(those shoes you could never find
in the right size)
they say
they are doing fine
in a little town
somewhere
on the south coast of france
- - -
< pants >
where are those kangaroo pants anyway?
oh
now i remember
the dog's in 'em
and in the (large) pocket
there's this poem about
killing my parents with
a steak knife i bought
for 50 cents at the neighbor's
garage sale but when i get
them back i'll send it to you
- - -
< in only their socks >
their clothes
dropped
on the floor
in only their socks
in a nice room at the Rice Hotel
in Houston, Texas
in only their socks
discovered
the next day
air conditioned
their bodies
were beautiful
as beautiful
(except for a few pimples)
as teenagers are supposed to be
- - -
< words like justice >
i have not killed
with my own hands
but through neglect and cowardice
i wish there was punishment
but there is only reward
for these actions
so it seems
this
is a dreadful place
and why
gods
and heaven
were invented
and why
we snatch
at words
like justice
- - -
< why i wrote this >
it was the only way
to test this pen
- - -
< smell-o-vision >
the dog called me
from somewhere in the swiss alps
told me:
we're all waiting for smell-o-vision
i said:
if you're depending on us
it's gonna be a long wait
you don't call us no-noses for nothing
you'll just have to get smart enough
to invent it on your own
he said:
ha, i'm already smart enough
to know that wouldn't help
hell, we've always been smart enough for TV
what we need is purchasing power
enough money to interest investors
(years later)
Dearest Fluffy:
Please keep the door to your room closed
while you're watching your smell-o-vision.
It's not so much the tours of horse country
as it is the road-kill specials.
- - -
< the old man >
shortly before he died
the old man got up one morning
and ate a breakfast of oatmeal
with eggs poached over it
he had figured out how to do this
using only his toaster oven
and was very pleased
with himself
- - -
< dead squirrels >
the dead squirrels
in the road
make me sad
and bother me
(though the crows are delighted)
like everything dead
bothers me
me
(a least when i wrote this)
being alive and all
and programmed
to stay that way
and programmed
to die
as well
both
at the same time
me and the squirrels
what a dance
- - -
_______________________________________________________________
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) 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 the mood i'm in) by writing to
me at: ray@scribbledyne.com -- and yes, i love it every
time someone is amused enough to make copies and send
them to friends, pass them out on street corners, read
them in coffeehouses, post them in laundromats, or wrap
a good, honest fish in them.
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, relatives, and casual acquaintances.
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... you take your chances (of course
if you're a healthy, independent sort and you really mean
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 had on had a quote on it from
noam chomsky and some chew marks left by a small, obstinate
poodle who is curled up, sleeping, resting his head on my
feet as i write this).
_______________________________________________________________
end
well, almost...
newest stock bio:
ray heinrich reorders the same damn words over and
over and again and again and if you're someone who
actually likes to read this stuff then the universal
paranoid they thinks you're obsolete but take heart
cause the same they said the same thing about the
dinosaurs and the dinosaurs just smiled, burped a bit,
and ate them.
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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