Vanishing Points


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To sum it up, WC TANK's latest album Vanishing Points is a burrow of levitations, layered in a cake of heartache. Like all his releases before this is a loquacious monologue of everything wise, inane and funny that he has learned up to this point, but what he has earned is clearly outside of his control. The songs cannot be defined as merely rap or sampling or poetry or ballads. Most contain a repetitive spine, but recede into arpeggios and tangents of emotion that supplement the endless monologue. This is an excellent album to listen to if you are feeling glum as most of the songs are reflections of heartbreak and mortality. While it still manages to contain several of his distinctive humor observations and innovative rhyming, this is without a doubt WC TANK's darkest album yet.


released August 18, 2015

Album cover painting by Todd Mrozinski

All lyrics written and performed by WC Tank

Production Credits:

Riley Lake
Diablo the Left-Handed Surrealist
Steel Tipped Dove
Nedarb Nagrom



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WC TANK Milwaukee, Wisconsin

wesley charles tank resides under a fig tree with no pants on

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Track Name: U DON'T I DO (Produced by Riley Lake)
after the edge of forever a crater is created
a carriage, a container that could never contain her

streaming life, pulsing through my veins
perforated by rain, manipulated by the game
paint over the plain with same urgency
that compels trains
on a scale of one to pain what does your soul say

a supplementary grid surveyed by those subverting it
traversing its terrain with no goals to obtain
low gain filter my brain with transitory signals to peel the pulse of my
sloppy agnostic offerings

posting epiphanies on wanted posters
craigslist ads, poems published by the new yorker

I have a very important announcement to make today

I think you could use a dose of your own medicine
but you don’t

you think I don’t hear you and I know that
because I do, hear you
say what
I think you gotta Moses complex
living out your legacies
like Pegasus pies
in the sky

I’ll find you when the time is nigh
if you find me first then I’ll say hi
se la vi

vehement feelings concealed in their congealing
you forgot
i’m a vehement behemoth
you know?

you don’t i do…
Track Name: GREEN SHEETS (Produced by Diablo the Left-Handed Surrealist)
with the leaves of sleep, sleeves of weep, weaves of steep, seas of deep
and surrounded by mountains so sightly yet soundless, how the hounds astound us
wolves stalking shone sight whilst walking by moonlight, ever so humming with night
and you never really know how someone looks at you, until you see them pictured
looking at you, your face aside from the frame yet so ever inflamed, enamored, insane
and ensnarements dissolve willfully as baby elephants encircling the circle

of the circus of turtles, a memoir of candles, a testimony of eagle feathers entangling talons
and dervishing in ecstaseas next to me you texted me you wanted to give sex to me
why lisosomes might know as much as hounds may howl, the sound of handfriction prevails
and atop wood in a warm womb ripe with conceptual grace power overbubbles
the dam, between connection and emptiness, poured under with another coat of sunlight
and skin of the same pigment, and bone of the same merit, as grins of the same bare it

that vast populations of the parrots of civet were sleeping when the gag bag burst the clasp
and you gasped at the sandghast, he wears a pastmask
soap wet and stepping, nude angle of fortitude, nimble member half mast
and for you it overflows the opalescent obelisk from nipple throb to nipple twist
to nipple kiss, rippling bliss into temperate zones, erogenius instinctuition
and floracaress, floral chorus, formally vulnerable with windifference
blow like there’s a fan in your face, deployed by the blood of a volcanic lake
and victimless, off the charts thou art, unchartedly stable, unstageably able
incontrivable olive juice, in other words submission to the surf despite the potential for drift
and the birth of a gift, from her earth to his hymn, her gill to his fin
swim laps or spin circle, each cycle gives the strength to jump delights over hurtles
and where you at now, i want to lay you back down on your back bone
act alone until i join thy throne and cover your shift with my on medium hand, again
art thou a crowned crone for the wide unknown, proponent of connected emptiness
redemptable hiccups unavoidable without touch to tell the story well

love mediums in lone meetings, zoning erogenius, slow motion hummingbird butterfly
and opalarities ovulate over ovular ellipticality, a spectacle of subtlety
pinnacle of purity, demands respectful, attentively detailed sensoral experiential rapport
and reporting every tip that made her twinge and cringe so to know where to place binge
hasty winds, smart baroness, myriad eyed miracle aisle,
and i’ll know you as i see you, i hear you act naturally
localized vocal eyes soaking our floral arrangement composed of so strange fragments
and this moment will know us like complementary darwinian naming systems
that’s where its at, you know a lot about a little
and the invention of the first paper airplane made physicists go insane and do backflips
flowology is the science of the creatively illustrated
art of moving without moving while you’re moving
top of you, in unbottoned bottoms you look me in the drawers
and i lick your fluid myriad, eat you like a food pyramid
intelligible intellensual silencio, i want the aura of your floral orbis
or florbis
Track Name: NOTHING SOUNDS APPEALING (Produced by Diablo the Left-Handed Surrealist)
one fluid ounce
of waning space (i used to wait in spaights thinking failure was my fate now i feel great!)
before the close of elevator doors
a press in the clutch

elevatorial molecular redistribution
a little bit more , further down
suddenly a number is called between the lines
walking on a comet with a condom in my pocket
hella neurotic
seduce dune autoerotically
finding fingers poking through
copping a field of squeeze bones
deduce kamikaze parasights
to parachuting to certain plights

left over from what used to be rain
rooftop sea drainage
remains complacent to evaporation
forced to wait
like a screaming baby
in a waiting room

whichever way
a choice goes
a nose blows
a voice throws

like a nested believer
your emmissions gleam
against the heart of the
matter, your knees tremble
like priorities on the verge of
faltering, building stairs up to windows
that show beams between rooms

me and you
writing lists of things to do
putting heads up pennies in our shoes
10 days from now we will go swimming
we will swim on december 26, 2013
at cedar ridge retirement community

while swimming i will continue to practice flying

a process of evaporation

evaporation vs melting

molecular elevatorial redistribution

i want to say words like EVOCATIVE IMMACULATE
and warm the framework of static delicacy
with tenured delinquency of poignant quillings
but today i will let go a long sign of sincere,
vehement advocacy of championesque pillowbirth
billow potential and may my quazi literate
alliterations all be taken literally
with a lack of salt to keep sodium levels
low and self-awareness questionable
with an ever approaching giftless goal
of achieving a novel of language
unsupported by both scrabble and
slang dictionaries written in a vintage journal
bought on credit from barnes and noble
while the stunted children in my skull quarrel
with each other for screentime my watch
often offers to defy greenwich mean time
quite tempting like sleeping in
the weave of my lover’s body heat
as wanting to eat the whole smorgasbord
of her gorgeous amorphous lymph nodes,
considering the rationale for hyperbole
what possibilities for life exists within
fertile deadspace?
what edges contain extensive cerration
wearing an earpiece in your dreams
Track Name: SIGNIFYRES (Produced by Riley Lake)
i’m on a boulder
rolling down steep steps
no goal or request
i know i’m the best
but nobody told them
my crown chakra is golden
constellations freckle the universe
i’m on the precipice of a tornado again
calling up old friends at 4 in the morning
at 4 in the morning

so low and beholding
feeling so low and beholding

your opus was annoying

i’m running out on the pier
to the edge of the vanishing point
not returning
but becoming invisible
becoming invisible
becoming invisible
gimme the boulder
hold my hand as i waltz on the ice
feeling the fade of my presence
the fate of a local legend

your graphic design
is superior to mine
you built your brand
to stick in their minds

like signal fires
lighting signal fires as signifiers
lighting signal fires as signifiers
built for buyers

constellations commodified
live out your life like you’ve gone and died
your ripples could turn the tides
no one’s surprised
when you’re living your life with a knife to the eye

i’m on a boulder
rolling down steep steps
no goal or request
i don’t know i’m the best
but everyone told them

constellations freckle the universe
i’m on the precipice of a tornado again
calling up old friends at 4 in the morning
feeling so low and beholding

i’m on a boulder
rolling down steep steps
no goal or request
i know i’m the best
but nobody told them
my crown chakra is golden
constellations freckle the universe
i’m on the precipice of a tornado again
calling up old friends at 4 in the morning
feeling so low
feeling so low and beholding
feeling so low and beholding