bad full moon

Christopher Sly tells me we were jumped by four security guards in a alley. I don't remember a thing but my jaw is really sore and I have a fat lip. He tells me that I was thrown out of a party for using liquefied candle wax for mouth wash, all I remember was dancing to a cover of the Stones 'Sympathy for the Devil'. Chris tells me that we crashed a Hollywood party and I freaked everybody out, talking about witchcraft, well it is a slight obsession. Its been a while since I've lost total consciousness and my jaw is really sore. I remind Chris of my special union with chaos, Sundance is no difference. As the day wears on and the pain reaches my cheek bone( later on I sport a mini-black eye) and I discover bruises on my arms and on the side of my knee.

Christopher Sly is serious about getting footage from the seven eleven that we got beat up at. I could really care less cause it just happens in this wild world were livin man. Now that its been awhile and I've gotten little pieces of the story I can clarify more clearly, I think. Last night Chris was king getting us in a big time party. Now it was my turn to show off and it happened like clock work ease. We crashed a premeire party 'School of Rock', security was really tight, it was all through a friend we made. She was a director of something and our conversation revolved around the movies we saw. We didn't tell her about the Paris party but we asked if we could follow her in. She said sure but she didn't think we could get in. We smile, its our job because my friend is phenomenal filmmaker and your children will be studying me at some university. Okay, thats a little exaggerated but it doesn't matter cause were going until they kill us. Immediately we get alcohol our goal is to get wasted because its an uptight world and they need us for it. At least I'm not obnoxious until I dance and start singing at the top of my lungs, 'please allow me to introduce our self I'm a man of wealth and fame' that was fun and these kids just rocked. Then Alice Cooper went on stage and jammed with these kids and there wern't any more than say, fifty people rocking. I was pretty raved. I went back to alcohol and this is where it gets kind of fuzzy. I remember conversing with some MTV people and from what Christopher Sly says I had them cornered and everything that came out of my mouth was "crazy" kind of like a possessed man. I even remember Chris mentioning "captivated" and then this cute girl gave me this harmonica that I still have. Christopher Sly tells me that a security guard, a big hawaiian dude was ready to throw my ass out. When I took hot liquefied wax and started pouring it on my tongue and into my mouth until it oozed done my cheecks. That was enough and Chris says he saved me, by grabbing me himself and throwing me out. Well then there was this cab just waiting for us and I remember parts of that. A really cool dude that didn't even charge us, blowing through and around Park City looking for fun. I even tryed to talk the dude into coming with us and share in on the spoils of this easy adventure but he refused. Thats were we crashed another place and Chris tells me again I held every one hostage in the kitchen with crazy talk of witchcraft while he stormed the joint stealing alcohol. I kindda think it was a open mic. poetry reading exclusive or an extreme performance art that I'm known for, but fuck if I can remember. Then the lousey part, going back to the car. Chris says that we could have been spending that time with two hot New Yorkers in their condo, if it wasn't for the hot wax act. I don't remember but from watching the footage that Chris later gets from the seven eleven shows, O yea this is before Cristopher Sly walks up to a limo knocks on the window and gets a puff from Snoop Dog. He's really high thats why were just standing there like two stupids. Then these security dudes CSC with yellow jackets come in and go out and start to act all aggresive towards Christopher Sly and I'm just standing there and I don't even remember it. The footage shows us leaving and soon four burly fuckers follow and thats it. My car was lodged in a big snow bank for no reason at all. I was hoping for better film so I could sue and make a little cash unfortunately there are no cameras where we were. Next time I'll make sure that there is cause I don't mind taking a couple of blows, as long as I get reimbursed for it. I wrote this poem to a harmonica, its called Waxed.

Waxed

I need a poem in thicket "Blinding Sun" the lowest
denominator in getting wasted new ecstasy flower
all my nouns meaning destroyed for sheer delight
the sun with a headache doesn't remember much
of the moon. She almost had hope for me before I
turned the razor on my vision and opened it up to
slaughter. I'm strong as the wind and revolutionary
women who mean business being vulnerable to
change. I sign the book as my pleasure expressed in
mansions outside with the clouds laughing on the ground
in the mud with a fat lip. They can never hurt me
on the inside I'm a soft puppy and my sorcerers eye
is building up on dreams. Discovering new things in
my pocket impersonating every symbolism first hand
all the while remembering the dinysian boots and the
sound of their harmonica heels. I've given it all up
for disastrous fun, kaleidoscope cinema's, lighted
bully streets, altered clothes and precious poetry.