Blanche Bruce Does the Modernism

let us go then let us go then I said and the band was I lone every which way way my spit slicked the sax’s brass chitlins. I said such wet would mud dust and soil red rock. I said doors to some room blown out the out blown in. let us go then let us go then. I said check the spit’s phlegm tenements. I said its slow typhoon syrup. it blooms the axe up and loams gypsum I said earths marblebaster. let us go then let us go then I said. preference of red or white I said my spit. where I was was where to be when I was there and what I made was it since it was where it was wasn’t it I said. but the body mustn’t be there I said. but the shapes are there I said here’s what we’ll do. let us go then let us go then wailing and whaling till one was off the chain I said fuck it. keeping time in a gorilla suit for the mud to come on uh i uh ii uh iii ...    uh cxvii and took it to the bridge to throw down wet wet wet I said. mold on that alabarble a salad a crop gainin on yuh in a gorilla suit I said. gaining on you I said I’ll take my time and yours and the bandstand gardened out let us go then let us go then and then we we we