out there . 14 I have seen the very last Concert For the last time I've submitted myself That's right submitted myself To the crush The smell The failed old theatre Theatre too big Too old Lousy acoustics Rancid canned-Margarita audience Popsies Gone bad gone very bad intermingled Intermingled With former popsies now middleaged whores Trolling their dredged-out husbands To the Concert In the old barn of a movie palace with lousy acoustics where the Band is the Band Secondrate ska and/or reggae group of dubious distinction Makes a very large Bad noise The crowd BlackBerrying to all their friends They rise All of them rise All of them except me and my partner who Needed to submit himself one last time I rose for the Stones Rose for the Dead Rose for Big Brother and the Holding Company and Janis I will not rise for this lousy Secondrate ska band and their dry ice I will not rise to be part of this Burmashave crowd Lesbians clutching each other BlackBerrying Women twelve seats away in the same theater Havent we got fun? Isnt it grand? Isnt it swell? This is bitchin This is farrrrrrrrrrr out Oh no it isn't Popsies It isn't anything but BAD Sixtysomething ushers with their well groomed Beautyparlor henna-does shine flashlights in their punked-out faces Greasy with misapplied makeup smeared by their fat fingers Well How can you apply makeup and still clutch Your BlackBerry in your fat hand? Lesbian Popsies in front of us scream Rock n Roll ! While what is being performed in front of us isn't rock 'n roll It is dreck Dredge myself through the experience The Backup Band Some mismatched pickup group Fatboys from San Luis Obispo So bad Have to go to the john Come back to my seat Perform reflexology on all of my fingers Arthritis-cramped Dupuytrons-cyst riddled Middleaged fingers Sinking Deep deep into a state of disattached boredom concentrating on my fingers Then when the Band comes on I'm already Gone Gone back home To sink into the pain of my aching hands My aching head Wanting to be anywhere but here Not wanting to make a Scene Making a Scene in spite of myself Sinking deeper deeper into the investigation of my fingers So When the Band comes on Dry ice machine fills the hall with stink BlackBerrying lesbians with their ripped n torn outfits Rise shakily on platform shoes I pray for Lillian Roxon Rock n roll critic for the Voice Came into Fillmore East To see the Band the real Band Fell and broke her fucking neck Falling down the stairs off her platforms Pray for Lillian Roxon How I wish These fucking lesbians would fall off their platforms Still BlackBerrying And die My partner takes me home before the secondrate Ska band has finished their first number We have the last two pieces of blackberry pie Real blackberries We have never had BlackBerrys clutched in our hands never willLabels: never had BlackBerrys
