______________________________________________________________ -- word biscuit -- -- all nuzzlely edition -- 01-17-99 -- ray heinrich ______________________________________________________________ well, more or less (but still in love) -ray < we were these dogs > beneath the cliffs waves breaking at our feet white and black and mixed and breeding all of us shaped like the future we knew would come panting slowly - - - < a newer new newness nestles snugly > and huddles up and burrows curls nuzzlely against you - - - < you > you have never left me there is always some echo of you late when it's quiet - - - < side by side > on the kitchen counter warm beer cold tea - - - < flowers > spring ones frozen and dying in the surprise of winter and of a dream without mercy and my mom warning me of paper clips and electric outlets (i tried them anyway) - - - < all barnedup & nobleized > that small bookstore around the corner is a dry-cleaner's now as my town becomes barnedup & nobleized but zuzu's petals (http://www.zuzu.com/) i never expected it of you (though of course you started holding poetry contests a while back so i guess it was just a matter of time) next i expect you'll start selling third-world kidneys and livers to raise money to spread the habit of literature to the rest of us who will be buying it (of course) all barnedup & nobleized - - - < heat > when i sleep you seem far away sometimes inches and i need you close paper close to the heat of your sun - - - < love dream > a pattern for hell discovered on your newest shoe and as i lick it and try to clean it off you imagine it's your genitalia but it's just a boot and not even my favorite flavor - - - < another pattern for hell > your panty hose wrapped gently around your neck leave only enough air to realize you have no control it's those republicans or your mom or dad or maybe that seventh boss of yours and if you only had a gun of course there wouldn't be tomorrow but you don't and so there's miles to drive to pick up kids and make some bucks to buy those shoes or not the hurt the rocks they throw can be ignored - - - < knowing > i once slept with a woman who knew and once yes even a man and it doesn't take much just some night and not being able to find your favorite flavor of ice cream or not being able to find your child alive this in El Salvador and you don't have to wonder why i'm always delighted in any aspect of ronald reagon's sufferings - - - < paint > stuck to your nails and every day you go and do this make these colors successful and after all these years you measure this by the ones you sell ('they're a piece of me' you said 'that i will never shed') but now you say that it's ok that it's just sharing that it's power that it's we need more space inside this room - - - < beautiful > it's dawn and the fine horizon is just defined and you sleeping by me are beautiful sleeping by me - - - < miracles > you can love me without fucking me you can sleep with me night after night through thirteen years of depression when you should have shot me when you should have left when i should have shot me or shouldn't have cause it was just some chemicals and when i took some others it mostly went away leaving only the dreams and you still there fixing me up telling me things even you didn't believe but you stayed anyway in sickness and in health and what can i say when i can't even show you this - - - < down > waking next to you layered on me a warm goose am i mating for life against your fine down - - - ______________________________________________________________ __end_of_product______________________________________________ - legal notes - subscribe info - back issues - bio - copyright - legal notes: all registered subscribers to 'word biscuit' have my sympathy as well as 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 them in a good, honest fish. subscription info: 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/ stock bio: ray heinrich is an ex-texas technofreak and hippie-socialist wannabe who lives on the outskirts of washington d.c. he writes poems for thrills and attention. over the years his work has appeared in many small, insignificant publications both in and out of cyberspace. in real life he repairs computers, has always been married, loves dogs, and owns a blue fish. copyright notice: all this is copyright 1999 by ray heinrich and the free state of dogs. comments are VERY welcome (send to: ray@scribbledyne.com ), 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 -- i'm not wearing any pants though the shirt i used to wear had a quote on it from noam chomsky and i still have some chew marks left on me by a small, obstinate poodle who was curled up, sleeping, resting his head on my feet a few minutes ago but is now upstairs barking at a squirrel. ______________________________________________________________ __end_of_all_this_stuff_______________________________________
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