Tomato

[wpaudio url=”/audio/5_5/Heil_Tomato.mp3″ text=”listen to this poem” dl=”0″]

I taught the children I teach English I say tomato is code
for quiet is supposed to get a finger you say mouth.

In the newspaper an article about the eye of a tomato

Her heart was struck she didn’t sing, she cried
the gloves are off her hands are in the tomatoes, they
are mostly rotten eaten forgotten it takes only one
moment a memory puts

a dirty finger on my mouth.

space between spaces

my mouth on your mouth then yours then yours.

Slap

[wpaudio url=”/audio/5_5/Heil_Slap.mp3″ text=”listen to this poem” dl=”0″]

the sound of the rain hitting the patio of the poor man’s apartment sounds like a slap. it’s like being slapped, you don’t have the right to complain, so you keep quiet and hope you don’t get caught. you ought to know by now how it goes. it goes like this. Put it on. Smile. Take it off. Breathe.