Can't remember the last time I was out past 1AM on a school(work) night. I don't see how others get away with this type of lifestyle(behavior). Simply not for me.
Last week I ran into my old friend, Erik. God, how long had it been. He invited me to this poetry reading pit yesterday. Anything for a friend. If you can't support your friends, what good are you. Plus he said to me, "If you don't go, I'm going to think you're kind of a dick." Sure, no pressure. Classic Erik.
I met up with him at the liquor store he's been working at which is right across the street from Prospero's Books. He is a superb artist. Though he told me he gave it up. "I had been trying to perfect this one piece for months and when I was satisfied I had achieved what I wanted, I saw no need to continue."
He does dabble though when necessary. Here is something he did after binging on old X-FILES episodes. :
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| From Drop Box |
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| From Drop Box |
I'm horrible taking pics so I just recorded video of his reading. He brought only one poem: A Nazi Armband Appears in the Laundromat.
I verse somewhere in the middle.
//Gather around it ceremoniously to thrust our hatred, to spit and jeer and throw rocks, or summon it like a demon when it suites a beating, or a fund raiser.//
The event went on for about three hours. Some real good shit was read that actually held my attention. Prospero's Books is somewhat known. It burned books in protest and held the world's longest poetry reading, going 120 hours straight.
| The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Tip/Wag - Deep Purple | ||||
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He told me some inspiration for the poem came after reflecting on his trip he took with his parents to Europe. They went to Poland soon after Auschwitz was turned into a museum. Also after watching the documentary, Defamation.
//Never bothering to mention our concern to the museum curator as to, why he keeps such a dangerous animal where he knows children will see and be scared.//
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Highlight was going to my first gay bar, Missie B's. Man it was straight Sodom and Gomorrah with a disco ball. I had a good time though. Drag show going on downstairs and upstairs on the dance floor, motherfucking Telephone was playing on the big screen. I almost lost it at that point, it was too surreal.
Did some Nine Inch Nails' Pretty Hate Machine karaoke with some people we met that somehow morphed into The Doors, The Supremes then Creedence Clearwater Revival. After 1AM, I gently excused myself around all these shirtless men and parted company. Hope to meet up with him before he disappears to Montreal in a couple of weeks. Said he wanted to put those French classes he took to good use.
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I bought a slew of new composition books and was going through some of my old journals and found some of my entries gearing up for the Inward Scream07 and the Deftones tour. Shit brings me back.
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| From Drop Box |
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Shit was commando when all I had was my MapQuest directions and a prayer. Now your phone practically does the driving for you. Oh yeah, want to pray to your God now....there's an app for that.
KILL THE CANCER!
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It's second nature to say,
Hey hey hey, we've done nothing but -
Nothing but take what's handed down
Said nothing but words approved to shout
We wanna know that we own the cake we're eating
Spit it out! Out, out...
Hey hey hey, we've done nothing but -
Nothing but take what's handed down
Said nothing but words approved to shout
We wanna know that we own the cake we're eating
Spit it out! Out, out...
-nothing wrong, JEW
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