The Hell's Angels frequented the rough Bowery bar.
No one challenged their claim to the punk rock venue,
The Angels scared off other asshole bikers, although not every night.
The Cramps first played to a packed house of garage rock fans,
As if the world was diving into the sun tomorrow.
I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Strychnine, and a cover of Surfer Bird highlighted the show.
My hillbilly girlfriend danced to every tune like she had been baptized by moonshine.
Alice wasn't white trash, but her West Virginia home wasn't far from the coal-mining hollows.
During the encore a scrawny saxist took the stage to fondle two Jersey biker chicks.
Their boyfriends sat in the front row.
br/>Chance had a reputation for trouble and stuck out his tongue.
The girls thought he was funny.
The biker boys jumped onto the stage.
Chance was skin and bones to the bikers’ mechanical muscle.
A solid right caught Chance on the nose.
Blood poured onto his dirty white shirt
A b-movie actor scrambled to rescue his skinny friend.
The half-Cherokee stepped between the biker and Chance.
The band played another chorus of Surfing Bird.
Alice grabbed my arm.
I stayed with her.
This wasn't my fight.
The biker looped a slow overhead right.
His fist loudly impacted on the actor’s nose.
More blood splattered everywhere.
Merv the bouncer threw out the bikers.
They left without a struggle.
The 6-6 doorman was a punk version of an Addams family's Lurch.
Even the Angels respected Merv.
The next night the actor entered the bar with a black eye.
Chance sported a double badge of honor.
That night the two were everyone's darlings,
Because at CBGBS there was never any shame about losing.
Foto by Andrey Armyagov
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