V.W.f.B.P. ch. 1

Violent Words for Beautiful People

For 'Tasha
and the land of eyes that comes between us
(you know how we do)

ch. 1

*|DISMEMBERED|*

So tonight I found myself alone / by choice / I lapped the humbling belly bottom of a full cup up to the rim with 90 proof lack of a voice / parted my lips to let my breathe set in / I pressed play just to see where the track would go from there / downed the last third of the fourth noun turned verb in a similar curve corked the CabSauv / it was with two spliffs and the first three quarters of the last half of that I heard sounds familiar in the melancholy breeze / maybe it was just the stoned half cut of my state but those dead leaf tones rang off the hook / with frequencies bent not coincidentally to the naked hips of the triptych of my archangels three / torsos light from appendages forgotten not a second thought brought to my head space / for they erased the neck to teach me / and I am learning / truly / the belts books and buckles pages burnt our burden in approximate circumference lasting far from the waist / scars across your nose your own transpose bruises on my cheeks / darker shades fade and wane with the vibration of a classical guitars fullness with sound until emptiness of the strings / eluded confusive as crystal glass or a woman's voice sonaring between the walls of the chambers of my heart and their apartment hands twisting hidden blunts in the stairs shadows across the streets / only the ember glows enough to reflect off my iris at the same time / palms fish eye in the pupil androtoscope muscles cope diagonally / remember the aft forward mentioned streets / salves we spread they're still there and defined in kind we blend in so easily with the cracks in the stained glass / the clouds cover every slab of concrete / brushes and cans / graffiti tags enfrancais / je ne sais pas and must I repeat / carpe diem and a shrouded set of feet paintings of mercenaries no newspapers circulated because we all knew what that means / celestial pelvis in anatomy a child where my jaw and teeth should be / ghostly mother fucker / that’s what I’ll name him / maybe oblique / maybe more P.C. / maybe not shut my trap my cotton mouth grows the crops we need in actuality / yes my sister you know what I mean / and that’s fine cost and pence and repositioned stance slime and a half an easy dance a quarter nickel dime / eliminating the buy or the sell the end or the mid line or the cut of the hard line against my rain my heart pours too / it starts / rolling back counter clock wise numbers diminishing but do not demise / still grimacing in the old lines I retrospectively find luxury in the clairvoyance abounding virtuous but never the purest points of physicality point towards sacred symptoms our rituals we hold in revelry my dearest we didn't discriminate we let it flow just to watch who threw the throwing nest the furthest / a phoenix born in mid air / a man with a woman in a cave with no home an old wolf / the two grasp the backs of each others heads / grapple tightly knotted fistfuls of certainty to tomorrow watch the evolution the natural will of growth of those twist sun kissed mitts of thick and dreaded hair