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 by the hour
and hour by hour, charleston recedes to the sea
while the watercolors wave unto thee

the radio made me want to shoot art porn
but instead i just wrote this album
music, you sexy thing, you’re too far gone
here i am writing just another album

delilah you delightful black dahlia
persistent diatonic diatribe of my existence
between thighs of mine eighty-eight ivories
fairing tides of sonic tincture on the
song long lost forgotten seas of these unfortunates
warships of intimacy
worshiping the larceny of heartstrings
do you follow me? down to the river to prey
upon all the malleable minded painters at bay
basking in their own dead weight
and hopelessly in love with one another
but far too fearful to stutter
uh… uh… christened miss listener… hey, i think i’d like to fuck you
or at least play grand piano in your presence
after all to some degree the two of you are synonymous
languidness painted on an indigo dress
your monochrome monotone damn near angelic

the radio made me want to shoot art porn
but instead i just wrote this album
music, you sexy thing, you’re too far gone
here i am writing just another album

nigh time i let my locks tumble
sampson so keen as he fumbles
key into cunt so sumptuous
internet, thanks for teaching me to fuck so thoroughly
yet aging cyber deity, you worry me
when winter’s been here since the beginning
we’re but disembodied bits of some snow-fallen god resembling
the seasonal shit from this self-proclaimed heavenly flock of pigeons
listless, fixated on target painting
entertaining but the entrance fee
and severely tainted by the training be it karma, craft, or creed
some fixed combination of the three
a trinity enclosed by the deadbolt artistic sexuality
lost inside the womb of human language
negligence of the flame is love’s inferno: temporal regret
odd self-replicating hellish double helix
when the last ember dies i hope you scream phoenix

the radio made me want to shoot art porn
but instead i just wrote this album
music, you sexy thing, you’re too far gone
here i am writing just another album