Take a walk on the wild side
Mom caught you
Naked with the neighbour boy
They locked you up
To shock the queer out of you
They killed their son
Wiped your memory clean
Filled it up with new, wholesome trauma.
Hopped a bus to New York City.
Turned tricks for a university tuition
A writer with an electric guitar
And a welsh viola player
In a lower east side bar.
They started a rock and roll band
Worked all day in factory
For your visionary artist-boss
And heroin on film
to capture the artist essence
of capitalist america.
You told your boss to fuck off.
You told the band to fuck off.
You roamed the streets of New York
A scavenger, a real rock and roll animal
with black sunglasses and anything goes.
You shook the stage with the Starman.
You butchered your guitar
It sounded beautiful..
You became noise
Immortality in the locked groove of a record.
–Jack Blare, 2016