______________________________________________________________ -- word biscuit -- -- sliced heart edition -- 03-15-99 -- ray heinrich ______________________________________________________________ luckily i like my dog who likes licking hand lotion off my hands -ray < life can become concrete > quite easily - - - < cut like a movie > as if a picture of my hand taken in Texas in 1983 (on the causeway to Galveston) could reach out and open a door to the east coast just wide enough to shout through anything that might stop you "it's all pieces now (you tell me) gray, white, black i spend afternoons cutting them like a movie and in the evening i spread them out great rolls of them always in ink thick black lines of them even and straight" - - - < ice cream > my little brother never liked ice cream and the rest of us kids just couldn't understand this why we always asked don't you like ice cream? and how we always asked can you NOT like ice cream? years later we still ask he still doesn't - - - < full pigeon, press here > 'she's a Merill's Blue' he said handing the bird to me 'there's fewer than 50 of them in the states' she squirmed and as i tightened my grip somewhere a tiny asshole (measuring about 2.5 millimeters fully dilated) was - - - < death valley > the slow lean of an afternoon plays us down a dull needle of a day rusts away dust skin breathing a gallon of water an hour not having to piss all day i need a rock to be under i need to stop this cooking white powder for sweat - - - < joining jesus > i was joining jesus to his cross using galvanized 6 inch decking screws and the cordless drill you gave me for christmas when the phone rang and it was some roman wanting his sword back when i think of what the republicans could be up to now then impeaching seems harmless enough and i'm sorry to hear about your condition maybe the second opinion will be better today was too warm for january it woke the squirrels and the neighbors gnawing with motorized teeth made me skip a track on my next belief or some vitamin or arrangement of words that could have fixed it all for me so i'll just go back to nights filled with black plastic bags i don't know what's in them but whatever it is is leaking out - - - < houses of flesh > a slight pressure an invitation i make you arrange your furniture i stretch you exactly so as you watch yourself drawn into my picture - - - < jesus gives me a hard-on > fixed up there on his nails (as i dream he becomes you) me and my hammer sculpting not around but through - - - < off hunting > will you open your chamber to my silver round? (off hunting again the smell and the sound) your hair and your claws my canines and paws the grasp of your barrel the fix of your sight my jacketed bullet fully in flight - - - < the child of the hoodlum > the child of the hoodlum (somehow manages) to be wrapped in white so she shines all through this too-long night the child of the hoodlum comes pre-subscribed to the pleasant channel of the new-born bride without a mistake without a miss the child of the hoodlum is wrapped in bliss - - - < clocks and refrigerators > staring at one into another - - - < men in general, me in particular > yet another opportunity to watch you through the fence that separates our yards me (pretending to sleep) as your long arms sweep tracing the sun with your breasts - - - < yours > is so soft - - < $wi$$ bank, 1943 > hand$ $hook and they all di$appeared behind a $mile - - - < the great bear > while running a newspaper in columbia the great bear was left in a headline starving and desperately splendid a hero that fiction could never possess (As has been widely reported, the cartel's concentrated economic power has enabled it to buy off vast sectors of Columbia's military, police, judiciary and congress. Those who cannot be bought off, are killed.) - - - < hearts > mostly broken these carefully fitted between the metal of filing cabinets another valentine's day the lights on at seven off at six - - - ______________________________________________________________ __transport_terminated________________________________________ - 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@wordbiscuit.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@wordbiscuit.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@wordbiscuit.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 (though, maybe, i have to admit i've pretty much given up) -- 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 -- and now he's back -- time, what can i say? ______________________________________________________________ __end_of_all_this_____________________________________________
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