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tortillon fluff - to live and shave in l.a. lyrics

work was based on fundamental currents
near his house where thrown from horse and k!lled
one has white hair, the other, a single figure
whose white hair limits appeal to mud bath, hedge—
fluff, the slave who was not poetic
with flowery forces, pompoms above her toes
created factory of the small allowance, five*fingered
fruitful, hung side by vulgar mimic’s painted side
and all other dead lines, tortillon reds, reds that shout:
“against poets (with a small “p”), against jolts of taxi*cab!”
appeared at the center of a whirling racer’s stride
f*cked among their ever*sounding, warming strains
her bonds produced points without dimension
a dense and intimate application
several of her persons lost, destroyed
came to a head les dieux s’en vont
longed for the futile and fleeting picks
made way for grave*rag of torillon fluff

she was had on the brilliant lamp*beams
within a one thousand*meter sneering mug—
above, her birth stool is opened thus:
fluff rose to meet their torpid sm*t!

- to live and shave in l a lyrics

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