Monday, February 15, 2016


(1970 blues)
Cowboy Joe from 79th, yeah I remember him.
He always came down here with a liquor bottle 
and a cap gun. That little crowd he ran with, like
Warhol guys or something, they were always
dressing up, wearing some disguise. Taking
massive amounts of stupid kinds of drugs. A
lot of it was gay shit going on, but not all.
They talked a lot and fast. Or then sometimes,
they just stared. Music was their interest too.
Funny fabrics, make-up, big-hats. I never
liked it when he came around.
A few years later I saw him on TV. He 
was taking credit for something  -  I mean 
something big, like claiming the cultural 
shift in the 1960's was all because of him. 
And his friends too; he didn't claim it all 
alone. I remember his quote  -  the moderator 
made a big deal of it  -  'This wasn't home to 
millworkers, after all. It was New York 
Fucking City, the Center of the world.'
Gotta' give him credit, at least for that. 
Nice words, if you can get them, and he 
could get them as he tried. To coin a phrase 
myself. It was only about two months later,
I saw he'd made the cover of Esquire Magazine.

No comments: