Black and White Night. by Alan Catlin

When he was alive, he was a rock star,

backed up by the dancing girls of death.

Cut songs deep under mottled skin,

leaving marks like pin pricks on the soul.

Went to hell and back in an afternoon,

twice on a weekend night, when the band

was hot and the SRO venues were on fire,

with all the exits locked, and back stage

roadies feeding the flames.

Headbangers fought Black Hell’s Angels

over mosh pit bragging rights; the ones

who drew blood first earned a Get Out

of Jail Free card and album covers

of basement tapes made by Satan’s Sluts,

the best damn sidemen in a business where

singing lead was everything and doing backups,

or duets, was a dying art.

On tour, in a rented plane, free basing at

ten thousand feet was just another ill-

considered career move.

The short term effect was catastrophic, but

in the long run, had a rock n roll, instant

classic vibe impact; better press than even

the best publicists could provide.

There might not have been a gold record at

the end of the rainbow but where they were

now, who really cared?

Alan Catlin worked full and part time in a variety of night clubs, restaurants, taverns, and neighborhood bars to support his writing habit.  He is retired from the bar wars but continues his writing.  His last full length book of bar related work is Last Man Standing from Lummox Press.