NEXT MAGAZINE REDUX : NIGHTMARE ON C STREET by CHRISTINE TRZYNA

This was a feature article in the November 1994 Next Magazine, by me, Christine Trzyna.

NIGHTMARE ON C STREET

Last night Pan was trying to seduce me into the Poetry Cult. Maybe it wasn't the old cloven footed trickster himself, but a naked surfer waving the latest copy of Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, from Dutton's. These definitive reference books for the 90's wordsmith keep flying off Dutton's dusty NoHo shelves like B-52's with UFOs on their tails. Maybe Pan, knowing I'm a poet, didn't think his stupendous butt or the long slender fingers of a slide-to-hell guitarist were enough!

He was dripping with seaweed. One piece of it hung seductively over his right nipple. He was carrying a surfboard with a screaming lime NEXT...logo airbrushed on it. Gosh! He looked like Killer Dana's Gary Wright...or maybe it was GMT himself!

His voice was full of maple syrup. "Hey you sweet young Pancake, you," he said. Definitely not Gary or GMT. "Wouldn't you like to enter into the dark den of the gypsies, tramps, and thieves?" he said.

He went on to mention the allure of the Anti-Menites, the Idealogues, and the Revolutionaries, like Psycho Boy did last month, but they all sound so like Jungian archetypes. This was my dream and I wanted crazy Sigmund and his coke addiction.

"Get involved in the poetry scene and before you know it, you'll get all the tarot and rune readings you ever wanted. Married women will turn gay and try to seduce you while their husbands are out paying off the charge cards. Pretty soon, even you will be working for cash under the table," Pan said.

"Wait a moment, Pan. This sounds a lot like a Music Business seduction to me. Did we meet at Lollapalooza? I asked.

"Nah. Too muddy," he replied. "Listen, Christine, follow me and you'll be important. You'll have friends all over the place. You'll drive...drive..drive to readings., No matter what, people will clap for you. I'll see what I can do to rig the slams. By the 30th of the month you'll be frantically searching for NEXT... so you can intelligently plan your month. And you'll start drinking coffee, even though it does taste like crap and puts cellulite on your thighs," he added, glaring at my skinny rump in a way that made me tremble.

"NO! NO! I heard myself moan. But I had sleep paralysis and my efforts to flee were canned. Somewhere in the background, like all good feminists, I heard Mick Jagger singing, "Under My Thumb."

"All I ever wanted was financial security!" I yelled. He vanished into thin air, but I heard his laugh all the way down the beach.

If you're reading this propaganda, you may already me a member of the poetry CULT. And Darling, there is no escape.

C 1994, 2008 Christine Trzyna

Commentary: When I read this silly article years later, I was impressed with my own sense of nonsensical fun and realized it had been a long time since I had written so freely. This was a first write so there wasn't time for both the editor in my head and the press deadline. Of course I see myself trying to tickle (with a jab) certain members of the poetry scene back then.

Duttons closed about a 2 years ago. It was a North Hollywood tradition. Hello to Dave Dutton! (The place is now a yoga studio!)

C 2016  Christine Trzyna / Christine Trzyna Blogspot