• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 12

hey joe (sir real

oh no jimi jimi no no not another song about killing a woman you are purple before prince and more woman than man and that's the nicest thing i can say seems you put a cow-catcher on my breast, it takes a lot to laugh but it takes train to cry just like a woman's split infinity, split britches, watch out below, and what's that King Tut beard you gave me? weird the mournful dove turpentine hair and when lilacs last in the fractal bloomed O jimi O joe O werner werner bra burner where are my hands my hands is gone as venus de milo why are you all picasso so-and-sos so eager to make us armless and two-faced purple with love's wound or just strangled and silenced black and blue and i like it on wilshire boulevard hey joe hey i can't breathe it's for real sir real sir real that woman cut up the cutup poem the blazon that scatters and shears