from the book Dance of a boy on the Verg of Unhingment
Its 3AM as I walk along 45th street going west, drunk of my ass, when I run into Brad Davis
"hey, where you headed?"
he ask's
"I'm going to GG's Barnum"
I say, with a drunken slur
a club I went to almost every night after being taken there by some Star who I cant remember, I was badly twisted that night as well.
"That's where I'm going, looks like were partying together tonight"
he say's
"coolness"
I say
and Brad and I walk along 45th street like two drunken cowboys, even thou I started going to the club when it was still called Hollywood, I always called it GG's Barnum. Brad takes off his shirt as we enter GG's Barbum disco, my T shirt comes off as well, and we ease our gorgeous sexy young bodies through the mixed crowd under the jungle gym trapeze artists performing above the netting over the dance floor. I can tell by the way he's acting, that Brad is looking to get into some mischievous business tonight, a man of Transsexual experience and a Transvestite dance next to us, I cant remember the song that's playing, but it's something sleazy, and I love it, smiling brightly at us, the Transvestite passes a fat blunt conversion in our direction, so Brad and I take a couple drags each and pass it back to her
"thank you"
I say
"thank you"
says Brad
The Transvestite motions with her hands to pass the joint on to a hot straight couple next to us, so Brad does.
We start mingling with the couple nicely, the tall brunette with blue eyed male and his blond stripper babe girlfriend are very friendly and touchy feely, Brad and I realize right away that they are most likely swingers and by-sexual, I'm not sure what Brad is into, I don't know him that well, but he seems to be having a great time. The four of us start French kissing and dancing close, this could easily turn into one of those experimental encounters for Brad, but I'm not going home with these two.
I'm walking naked through darkness before me, holding a torch in my right hand, as firefly's erupt with bursts of illumination around me, below my bare feet, I feel wet leaves. Suddenly, there are trees around me and I sense that I am in a woods, I get an eerie premonition that someone is following me, turning, the light from the torch finds Rose, standing there, wearing a very low cut black gown with silver glitter sparkles, the torch light picking up beads of tropical sweat on her breasts, neck and face. Rose holds out a very ancient golden cup decorated with diamonds and jewels
"drink this boy, do it now, I will own your soul"
she says
"fuck you"
I say, then begin running through the woods, as Rose walks quickly after me laughing like a demented banshee, then she turns into a giant bat creature, half woman, half vampire bat, a disgusting thing of evil hovers over me, then drops right in front of me, wrapping it's winged arms around me, and her long fangs bite into my neck.
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from the book Dance of a boy on the Verg of Unhingment
from chapter Valley of packaged boy dolls
The memories fade as the train pulls into Penn Station. The fabled streets of Manhattan were always good at shouting over the traumas, redirecting my brain to the healthier pursuits of drugs, tricking and other urban adventures.
I head up the stairs to the surface of the suddenly lit-up world. A misty rain blows around me as I head up 7th Avenue to 42nd Street and over to 8th Avenue, the once decadent, now Disneyfied, Forty Deuce. The working girls are strutting their goods in front of a backdrop of brightly lit theaters showing a huge array of sex, grindhouse and kung-fu films. Inside Jennifer Wells, Deep Throat and The Devil in Miss Jones there. Last House on the Left, Torso and Mark of the Devil here. A sexy, tall black girl in a miniskirt, stilettos and a rabbit fur jacket, with severe-looking makeup and a long straight weave with eyelid bangs smiles at me. I smile at her, a cigarette hanging James Dean-like from my lips.
“Hey baby, gimme me one of those,” she says.
I take out my pack of straight Camels and shake one out for her. She inhales deeply as I light the end.
“Oh, that's them strong cigarettes, honey.”
“How’s it going out here tonight?”
“Shitty night. You got a couple of fat johns roamin’ around looking to get a blowjob for ten, shit, honey, my beautiful lips don't go near a dick for less than fifty.”
“Any young guys out?” I ask.
“Yeah, there were a couple young motherfuckers out here, with their Wall Street motherfuckin’ suits, talkin’ about, hey baby, you lookin’ good tonight, listen here, I got a big ol’ fat dick that needs servicin’ with your name written on it.” She turns to me, brushes hair out of my eyes with the business end of her talons. “ ‘So what you lookin’ for, honey?’ ” she says, acting out the scene for me.
“ ‘I want some pussy.’ ” She does her best Wall Street executive impression.
“ ‘You want some pussy? How much cash you got, sugar?’ ”
“ ‘Twenty bucks.’ ”
Those razor claws run down my cheeks, pause at my Adam’s apple, continue down my sweaty T-shirt and stop again at the top of my jeans, teasing my short hairs. Those boys had balls to mess with that bitch.
“ ‘Twenty bucks, motherfucker?’ ” she continues. “ ‘Are you for real? You think I would give you my sweet mocha fucking pussy for twenty bucks?’ Fuckin’ asshole.”
“That the only action you’ve seen tonight?” I ask. By this time she has let go of my jeans, and my cock sighs with relief. Those claws could do quick work of my salami.
“I ain’t made no money yet tonight, and I been out here at least an hour.”
“That really sucks,” I say.
“Gimme twenty bucks, baby, so I can get some pizza and some goddamn cigarettes.”
“Sure,” I say, and pull out my wad. I take a twenty from it and give it to her.
“Thank you, baby,” she says, and kisses me on the lips. “Look at these zombies out here tonight,” she says, her hand on her hip.
“Any smoke out here?” I ask
“I get you something, come back around here in an hour, I get you a joint.”
“Thank you, baby,” I say, and head down the street to look for Damon.
I head east on 42nd Street. I stop to talk to a pair of tall, sexy hookers when suddenly Damon appears.
“How you been?” he asks, squeezing the back of my neck.
“I'm good, you know.”
“You wanna come to a party with me?”
“Fuck yes,” I say.
He wraps his arm around my back, and we walk south. By the time we arrive at the party, on Avenue A in the East Village, Damon and I are pretty wet from that misty rain. We pull off our T-shirts and wring them out before hitting the buzzer for the fifth-floor loft. We climb the stairs, and Damon slams me against the wall next to the door. He sticks his tongue down my throat just as the apartment door opens. A busty blonde appears.
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From the book Dance of a boy on the verg of Unhingment
from chapter titled Once Upon a time
Steve Rubell stand's behind the stage smiling and excited like a little boy eager to
un-load several dozen red roses into the disco queens arms, Donna sings the final
seconds of the Paul Jabarra hit which she sang in the 1978 disco movie Thank God its friday.
After being covered with roses and kisses from Steve Rubell, Donna leaves the crowd
completely satisfied. The lights are shot out to blackness, and the disco queen is qickly escorted behind the curtain by flashlight, past the moon and his cocaine spoon and out the back entrance. As the lights and screen are brought up, D.J. God Roy Thode slowly floats his twisted flock into Carry on, turn me on by Space, from the 1977 album from France titled
Magic fly. I myself am tripping on magic mushrooms and sweating profusely, as Sodom and
Gomorrah erupt around me, the couple who were kissing and fondling each other are now
fucking as he lays on the speaker with his jeans pulled down around his knees and his girlfriend sitting on him bouncing up and down on his cock. Drag icons Arthur and Kevin Boyce run sparklers over my wet flesh and Arthur gently presses a fat joint of Columbian gold to my lips, I take in a big hit and hold it in my lungs, then bring my lips to the lips of Jeff Vincent, blowing the smoke into his mouth, Jeff is also tripping on mushrooms and our bodies
are feeling fabulous as we rub against each other.
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From the book Dance of a boy on the verg of Unhingment
from chapter Dance of a boy on the verg of Unhingment
By 4:30 am, Studio 54 is pecking with decadence and debauchery, Divine and I sit on the back part of a couch at the brick wall side of the dance floor, doing a bit of toot, and reading taro cards, behind us, the man in the moon and his cocaine spoon illuminate with the presence of a God. The dance floor lights flitter and fly around the disco cave, bouncing off of Divines glittery silver gown. Foxy Debbie Harry of Blondie strolls around in a tight fitted sexy outfit in a stat of happiness, her blond hair, wild, and shoulder length with bangs, her darkly outlined eyes searching the surroundings like a beautiful vampire at a mascara de ball for the Marke De Sade. A possible appearance by glamorous vamp Diana Ross will be made at the party, the Superstar of Lady sings the blues and Mahogany fame is out for the evening and a visit to Studio 54 is on her menu. Super chic hairstylist to the stars, Christopher Wells and stunning blond model Nancy Lucas enter Steve and Ian's paradise, both dressed in original fashions by top designers. Christopher has worked his magic on the heads of stars like Altiveise Davis, Angela Lansbury, Shelly Winters and Sophia Loren, Chris and Nancy walk through the mirrored glitter palace entrance, and the two are met by Prince Egon Von Furstenburg who escorts them to the bar.
To be free like the birds and bees, a child will wonder through the falling colored leaves, a naive innocents laughing through the trees, dancing with disco fairies, hot butterfly's, and glitter bees, her baby fine hair blowing in the breeze, and mommy dearest kept in deep freeze.
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