FOR THOSE ABOUT TO ROCK THE HOUSE, THE BOAT, THE CASBAH...
by Johnny Squib Menesini
Dig the scene in Dr. Seuss' story The Sneetches, like right before the moral, you're going to have to remember here or read the fucking story, but man, they were all balled up so you couldn't tell one from another; this is Pgh sidewalks. Is there an 'in' crowd or 'it' guy/girl anymore? Strange pants does not a hipster maketh, what is a hipster beyond somebody who is hip to what's going on, intellectually, esoterically, one who is simply clued in. No haircut or jean cuff simply separates one group for another. It's a mosaic; a trailer punk-a-billy hobo neuveau yippee down and out up and coming slum chic superstar. Any attempt to stamp or call out is basically left on death's deaf doorstep. All is dead, long live All. Here we break into specific myths pertaining to the organism of Rock and Roll, a term coined by Alan Freed a Pennsylvanian DJ who dared play black music on white radiowaves. Imagine, saxon frequencies even, scary shit, he died penniless. This shit still burns brighter than Kennedy's torch in Arlington . Over romanticized, naïve, self-important clash that asks nothing of the audience but MOVE, whether backwards or forwards FURTHER is relative in the grand scheme of ROCK-HAIL ROCK!
Never write drunk - stick to Quaaludes or gone tooth pills. Even pot can sway you on its own sometimes, down green paths of broken up introverted schizophonic western hiku. Pain pills work better than anything. Bangs dug cough syrup, back when the stuff was loaded with good OTC candy, codeine. Kerouac dug bennies, Benzedrine, pop the inhaler open and ball up the stinky strip and swallow it with coffee, to write for days, again, a great easy high of yesteryear romance. You may as well make your choices now children, find your muse.
I'm a cheerleader's tit into my 40; the protein shake has long melted into my stomach wall. (Bird drank scotch and milk when he was trying to kick.)
Quiet Storm Friday October 22, Bands, Beers, Bodies with faces, some with not. My tongue could use a scraping, the band I can't figure out, somewhere between Pat Benetar and Stevie Nicks complete with aged blonde and players in shiny black tops. I look around to make sure Warhol is not staring at me, this is not Max's Kansas City , it's another weekend in the Iron City . Neighborhood cross-culture. Mulligan Stew, Hobo Soup, pass a sandwich and an apple, metrosexual so-hot phantoms goth glide onto imaginary traincars, rock rock-and-roll. Shit, rock lived for a short 29 days before the revolution was homogenized, way way way before us peckerwoods, spades, et al, slid down mom's pussy into the bright light of beautiful shit.
The bands are done; Mick Ronson blows his load on a bust of Patti Smith and dreams of a floating Moon. The wires are rolled up, mic stands shrink like cocks after coitus, the gear gets schlepped into trunks and vans, sweaty adrenaline kids steam in the night air. Can't stop now, put some R&B on the box, left alone to my ghetto champagne and cognac, and all I want to do is dance, hard, fast, jerky, to the JB self-assured yelling about sex, when we all know his muse was meth not pussy, but man, we leak, salt sweat runs down the back, and the hair sticks to the brow, draining a cold I don't even have. The chairs are put up, more room to kick and clap, a reverie, you feel touched, a snake dancer, Southern Pentecostal, church kids and tambourines. Move harder until the volume drops and the lights come up. Left with the hum of an extractor fan, and the silence of the ceiling fans gets louder, louder, until we all go home spent, just another night, another night. HAIL ROCK!
Aside:
Jimi pimped his Fender with so much LOVE
Thunders spiked himself deep out of sheer LOVE
Iggy busted his ribs out of LOVE
Nina Simone shot a boy out of LOVE
Bolan was a phantom swan that became a phantom swan for LOVE
Warhol pointed his finger lovingly and called the emptiness Non-LOVE
Rob Tyner called for all out war out of LOVE
For those about to Rock the House, The Boat, the Casbah
We show our tits
Expose our dicks
And salute you
Mythological Comic Book Hero Action Figures
HAIL ROCK!
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