< off the interstate >

[rayheinrich]

< off the interstate >

time is a trick here and we are being played
sometimes beautifully
sometimes not
but most of the time it makes no damn sense
yesterday i see you
facing away
but it's you
knowing your walk the way i do
but today
you're gone
and after that, who knows
the song comes and goes
most of the time i can't hear it
noise or silence
across the next room or off interstate 10 just west of new orleans
the tires of the trucks are singing
it's playing them too
but us?
we'd never know
even if we could hear it
and we can't hear it
this night
off the interstate
just west of new orleans

- - -

[ChristopherSea]

Ray, I can't believe this piece is just sitting here with over one hundred reads and no one bothering to comment. It was a forlorn image to me with 110 views and no replies, much like the poem itself. Poignant work and bittersweet; I found it quite moving./Chris

[newsclippings]

I want this poem. Can I reblog it on my Tumblr?

[rayheinrich]

< writer's prejudice >

while comments
are fine

each sweet read
is divine

- - -

.
.
.


"I want this poem. Can I reblog it on my Tumblr?"

my gosh yes!
blog; copy on paper; use to wrap up a good, honest fish,
make up some weird name for the author like
"picayune pete" or "suppositious sam" or maybe just "poink";
yes, "poink" sounds just fine:
"poink's prestodigitationestic (yet subtle) song stylings"

[newsclippings]

you can see it on becauseamerica.tumblr.com if you'd like. :]

[rayheinrich]

you can see it on becauseamerica.tumblr.com if you'd like. :]

Just did. You've made me pathetically happy.
Ray

P.S. Those illusions by Georges Rousse are divine.