Sheen says:
I came across an old notebook of Heen’s the other day and discovered this little poem. It’s very typical of the sort of stuff he used to churn out in those days and I quite like it so I’m going to post it here before he finds out.
Tarry A While, Pray…
Gods on high, high on Gods,
Inhaling frankincense, charity, faith and hope
Stoned in tune, the tune will come to me
As I pick out chords on dope.
Seeing stars seething starts steaming
Fret not, bottleneck your tears,
Salvation is at hand, sweet stench streaming.
Pushing on down the flowing acoustyx,
Smoking music I get my cruci-fix.
- Heen Martínez, Zaragoza, 1989
