Collage In Multiple Tunings

Tomorrow I shave And learn the saxophone I'll leave the soul patch It makes me look more Russian I want to sound like Blood Orange Speak like Alyosha And scheme like a Karamazov And dream like Proust I think about the residue of streaks of shampoo slid down the shower's glass And the pillars of creation speckled white from the sink light splotches of new soap I stand due under the copper head Head battered butter smooth by 49 tempered jets to get the full effect To feel it litter my back was just grasping at straws in oven mitts shoveling shit in a hockey mask for 39 hours What do you see When you blink at the walls Stucco conformed To a shipmaster's clock Inspiration Inspiration Comes when it comes I'm pretty I shook up the world I'm wasted An adult Of exemplary self control and discipline Self control and discretion She had Crystalvue coated do-not-polish An airway view 30 miles northeast Of Allyliance, Nebraska A cat named Tax and a stack of black currants Distilled to a single message Content and conscience before technique in any etic form To turn and loosen the human soul How to describe Everything you mean To me?