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Vanishing Points

by WC TANK

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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 indeed 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 fly 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…
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GREEN SHEETS 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
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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 WATCH HOW THE HAPPINESS BENDS 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
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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
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about

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.

credits

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
Seakn
Steel Tipped Dove
Nedarb Nagrom

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WC TANK Milwaukee, Wisconsin

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