monochromatic flow
for the indigo angels
i painted with a vast hand half past the stroke of distraction
fraction of a clenched fist misprinting friction on a canvas famished
the grandfather in my grandmother’s kitchen no longer chims chim cheree at the hour
and hour by hour charleston recedes to the sea while the water colors wave unto thee

brush, brush, brush, brush
movement as such and the ensuing hush
trust, trust, trust, trust
movement as such and the ensuing lust
brush, brush, brush, brush
movement as such and the ensuing hush
lust, lust, lust, lust
movement as such and the ensuing touch

west end winston and paul said snort this sand before we fly to japan on the othership i don’t want you to bowing down to this once you make it
best advice i ever took to the face quite literally
puffing orange fuzz and shitting on the bathroom floor
disgorging in the aforementioned shower stall
the same one i passed out in after sleeping with constance
chris i wish you could have been on this record
i always wanted to rap like you, another reason
why we should resist mixing art with academia
meandering iambics as my swinging heart’s inertia
i heard you, firstly, wordsmith, cursed by
the infectious affection of a new york lectern lover
hovering mothership upon which to harbor your ideas
and project paintings of your poetry
yet woe were we as our womenfolk muses left
sniffing amphetamines on their verandas, chanting:

i’m an open book if you know the url matter of fact blue ray just press play and please stop loving me (nah) just a little bit faster (just a little bit faster); i’m just a little bit plastered (i'm just a little bit plastered)
i’m an open book if you know the url matter of fact blue ray just press play and please stop loving me (nah) just a little bit faster (just a little bit faster); i’m just a little bit plastered (i'm just a little bit...)

i’m heading back to three-three-six, whether it’s a fifteen minute cruise
or an unexpected kiss
to drown in nostalgia
alex i can’t shake the nightmares
or the sex tips
as i spit out my soul over b list synth beats
laura
i’m sorry i can’t keep from revealing surprises
and my mind, well it sits
antsy on each and every piece
of your miniature furniture collection
deadweight on your bedroom’s bookshelf
i still keep the thank you card from your
visit to the dentist on my window ledge
and all the speed i hope i never take again resides under it
crumbling
epileptic fractions of happiness as the memories of you
lying on a couch in the radio house
or lounging in the [mahg] room for luncheons
jesting about gin getting a pitchfork ten
and grinning

i’m an open book if you know the url matter of fact blue ray just press play and please stop loving me (nah) just a little bit faster (just a little bit faster); i’m just a little bit plastered (i'm just a little bit plastered)
i’m an open book if you know the url matter of fact blue ray just press play and please stop loving me (nah) just a little bit faster (just a little bit faster); i’m just a little bit plastered (i'm just another niche rapper)

brush, brush, brush, brush
movement as such and the ensuing hush
trust, trust, trust, trust
movement as such and the ensuing lust
brush, brush, brush, brush
movement as such and the ensuing hush
lust, lust, lust, lust
movement as such and the ensuing touch

rust, rust, rust, rust...
(leaves fall with the color of corroded metal and memoirs
rusted jugs of turpentine for dirty ears and my repertoire... repertoire... repertoire...)