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-- word biscuit --
-- love, sex, and the price of trees edition --
12-16-96 - ray heinrich
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this was supposed to be the november edition and if it had
wheels it'd be a trolley.
if you know of anyone who might like to receive this biscuit,
please please please send them a copy and tell them they just
need to send me an email saying something like yes to receive
it for the rest of my natural born days.
there's also supposed to be an xmas edition this year, but just
in case things get too weird, i'll wish you a merry winter
solstice with an optional topping of christ or santa right now.
take care and thanks for bothering to read this stuff,
-ray
< i love you >
someplace between washing dishes
and worrying about money
someplace between mailing the bills
and leaving the grocery list at home
a bit of you
sneaks in
- - -
< hearts and rivers >
the river
at first light
black
and silver
i can't tell it
from the clouds
nor your heart
from mine
- - -
< the garden at 7 o'clock >
the garden at 7 o'clock
sometime in late summer
almost dark
almost remembered
i open the gate
and stand watching you
the willow branches
to your right
lean into a wind
that smells of fresh ocean
and you look up
about to see me
for the first time
- - -
< sleeping with the moon >
i'm in my ninth month
and my belly
is doing a good imitation of a melon
(though it's really not green enough)
i've known since the sonogram
that i was pregnant with the moon
and now
i turn out the lights at night
and watch it's glow
and imagine the delivery
spreading my legs
the beam of soft light
shining from me
it happened last summer
all those nights on the roof
sleeping under the stars
and yes
it's true
sleeping with the moon
- - -
< precious ruins >
afternoon gives way
the slow cycle
of night after day
the quality of light
filtered
through leaf after leaf
loses its beginning
and its end
and the days and days
laid like bricks
one upon the other
form this building
and as it fails
it makes us
precious ruins
- - -
< the photograph >
the photograph
whispers of a pond
with rocks to one end
near the wooden bench
in the shade of a large tree
but never once
mentions
you
- - -
< loneliness >
loneliness
i am in love
with your beauty
how many times
have i come to you
with some fresh loss
and been comforted
by your clear sorrow
been cradled
in your spare arms
as the desert
enfolds its wisdom
with the blessing of sand
you
hold your love for me
in a single point
that as it enters
is as warm as the sun
- - -
< i'm willing >
the connection of sex
someone's hard thing in someone else
mine in yours
yours in mine
we count tongues here
we count good intentions
we count fantasies and dreams
and all those connections
like mine to you
as you read this
and though
you may find me later
for right now
this
is your only connection
and it's not sex
at least i don't think so
but for you
i'll make it anything you want
i'm willing
- - -
< playing in traffic >
don't you wish you were out in the traffic again?
playing with the fresh steel
rubbing your body
against the new cars
your flesh skin
firm
against their metal skin
it uses you up
so fast
but still
don't you wish you were out in the traffic again?
- - -
< my cock >
my cock
looks a bit silly
like god was playing mr potato head
and the sack beneath it
all wrinkled
like a balloon with the air let out
as sylvia plath whispers:
"turkey neck and turkey gizzards"
but just come over here
and open your shirt
one button at a time
let me imagine
what you'll let me do
and slowly
a male venus rises
in a streamlined curve
just made for dipping into you
- - -
< firm wish >
smelling your scent
tracking it
hoping i'll make a sweet meal
for that mouth
between your legs
- - -
< like a dog >
like a dog
i smell
the time of month you're in
and like a dog
i want
to lick you
- - -
< i want >
i want
to suck your clit
like a nipple
to listen to you
come
- - -
< mowing your lawn >
Wind that rope around my head
and jerk-start me coughing from
sitting in the garage all winter
but running smoother as i get
warmed up as you steer me into a
deep patch and i get hot parting
your turf with my dull blade fire
coming out my exhaust but we got
the rhythm now we're doing the
whole yard.
- - -
< the price you pay for trees >
leaves
leaves
and more leaves
the price you pay for trees
that
and the occasional branch dent in your car roof
and maybe the possibility
that as you are sleeping peacefully some night
one of them will fall into your bedroom
and cut you in half
increasing somewhat
the price you pay for trees
- - -
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and all this stuff is copyright 1996 ray heinrich.
you have my permission to copy it and post it a reasonable
number of times as long as it doesn't involve charging money
(kinda redundant, after all, it IS poetry), it's not part of
any pro-republican campaign literature, and you include:
"copyright 1996 ray heinrich - comments welcome, send to:
ray@scribbledyne.com and i'm not wearing any pants"
END for now