Stew
In this house
on the hill-stack.
Baked meat
abounds what
smell
how we devour
grass by the
bucket
full.
Then led down
the hill-side
by the red-armed
mother,
us pith and her
marrow full.
For Ruse and for Rust
we'll all be burnt, slightly.
Anne Heide
Lime (a playlet)
In kitchen-time. With an of-course tempo.
: Love me some Holly-sap to snare chickadee-dee-dee.
: No more and no more dinner. See my house is flailing around me? No
more winged supper
: With hair, cement: use mine to bind this house. Now let me capture
it. Sugar me up.
: With that sap to remove all-skin? I'd rather.
: …
: Good dry rivers have the clay-foot stomping we need we need for house.
: Me the mother lain too long in this spot and white them in every
doorjamb. Feed on my peel, slip slip.
: …
: I am hungry in the daylight. Trap them, and feed me.
: A phosphor-glare. Where I am famous. Bird-stain famous.
In kitchen-time. With an of-course tempo.
: Love me some Holly-sap to snare chickadee-dee-dee.
: No more and no more dinner. See my house is flailing around me? No
more winged supper
: With hair, cement: use mine to bind this house. Now let me capture
it. Sugar me up.
: With that sap to remove all-skin? I'd rather.
: …
: Good dry rivers have the clay-foot stomping we need we need for house.
: Me the mother lain too long in this spot and white them in every
doorjamb. Feed on my peel, slip slip.
: …
: I am hungry in the daylight. Trap them, and feed me.
: A phosphor-glare. Where I am famous. Bird-stain famous.
Anne Heide
Courtship
Home with his catch the up-right but-cher stomps
O see what I've got you to the mo-ther. A calf is
split he says by our al-pha-bet so tender it won't let
him move around. O be-lieve he says when I rope
him how ea-sy see he does-n't move a-round your
kitchen.
Anne Heide
Bailings
The mother allows us
home to hers.
Shows like sweet shingles,
the roof caved
above the kitchen.
The lawn never grassed & salted hill beyond.
Shoes in the bedroom and the milk-cow
painting hung above the oven.
Says, if I light matches it smells like
almost dinner, at least
like something roasting.
And this little cow
moos for me, see?
Anne Heide
