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-- word biscuit --
-- heart-shaped edition --
03-25-00 -- ray heinrich
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We're born, we mill about, and then we die. - A. Millic
-ray (still milling)
< dreaming of all else >
one quiet piece of water leaves a likely rock
touch
and touch is what is
those legs of yours
your heart-shaped hole
i put my fingers in
and what is me and what is you
when we're off doing what we do
dreaming of all else
- - -
< for another day of you >
a distance of across the street
watching you watch along the street
as you leave your work
i say to myself
what i should or shouldn't say to you
you
i don't know who you are to me
but all the day i say you're not
and think of you
somewhere
between my head and yours
and then you fold your folders and you leave
and as i watch you watch along the street
and as you walk
i watch you down the street
then get busy waiting
for another day of you
- - -
< god speaks to me every night >
doesn't tell me shit
- - -
< door knob >
you say and i say
and the silence curls
and you say you are ok
and you keep saying
and i keep trying
and you are ok you keep saying
and i keep trying
to be smooth and happy
and not mind your silence
as it curls around me
(though later i ask the door if you've left)
- - -
< heat of transfer >
your fuckme shoes
built to amuse
your shabby dress
my thin excuse
- - -
< one letter two >
the whiskey making
one letter two makes
the other side of the
room a lover a face
and never a word turns
away in the picture
the heater and its carbon monoxide
the face and its blue fingernails
the whiskey making one letter two
- - -
< over sweet desire >
having all this given to me
the green leaf of you
as you turn you say
you enjoyed the summer
and you must go you know
off to the fall and all
and leave my lonesome tummy
hanging
over sweet desire
- - -
< sunday morning >
the drops
my first look
in the sun
the sparkle
and i need
to brush my teeth
and shave
and dress
and all
and oh
and no
i don't
it's sunday morning
- - -
< up and said >
so you up and said
don't
please
don't start this again
i've seen enough TV
enough network
enough show
enough small moments
this morning
a year ago
where is it?
the smooth
stretch of your skin
it comes to that
and a few words
these them?
- - -
< mozart >
waterproof loudspeakers
mounted in my clothes washer
play his music
produce
surgically clean clothes
- - -
< prague >
the spring there
she said
oh the spring there!
(i listened, but all i knew was texas)
- - -
< back and on >
lentil soup
cooks
without complaint
the streams of day
flow
and night
and on
and it all leads
where?
and it all leads
and you and me
following
as tethered kites
balloons and children
us who follow
to and fro
the wind
it pushes us
and pulls us
into we
and us
and you
oh you
just where are you?
to and fro
back and on
- - -
< this little box >
opening this little box
its top
embossed with stars
and a thin sliver of a moon
drifts
behind clouds of blue and silver paint
made (as they breathed it) in china
- - -
< heart-shaped hole >
two eyes at the ends of your mouth
in the trees
moving as they tilt against the evening
it's getting dark
the music
squeezes from your hips
i'm in your furnace
watching
through your heart-shaped hole
- - -
< Banks of Claudy >
oh how the dearest flow and flow
we come
we come
and then we go
- - -
< slow water >
pissing the colors out
your hand
hard in my grasp
they are tearing at us
the word of music
lulls us
paws a small scratch
it bleeds and tastes of salt
(then the ocean
washes us clean)
- - -
< out there >
the cows
high on their grass
moo along
and even the sun has set
(quietly)
the fences
stretch
as the wind
plays them
- - -
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- 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 and four BRONZE frogs.
copyright notice:
all this is copyright 2000 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 seem to keep committing but at least
i'm not wearing any pants and the shirt i used to say i
was wearing had a quote on it from noam chomsky and some
chew marks left on it 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 and now, a month later, he's back again
and now, another month later, he's upstairs barking cause
he wants me to come up and walk him which i'll have to do
but i'll be back in a minute, well, it's been a month and
he's watching the baby racoons again and there's no living
with him until they stop catching and eating the moths on
the screen door and you'd think they'd be scared of him
but no they're just ignoring us and two months later
they're lots bigger and we finally got some rain and three
months after that it's finally getting cold except for
my happy feet beneath a warm and still obstinate poodle
and more months later he's asleep in the other room and
my feet are cold and i have every intention of getting
up and doing something about this but not quite yet.
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