Deee-lirium by Max Steele
'Zinester, performer and all-around underground superstar Max Steele treats us to an excerpt from the latest issue of his psychedelic porno 'zine, Scorcher.
Hip-hop bass drum car speaker sound meets thunderstorm. Spraypainted streetsign meets Bossa Nova. Sun never sets. The romance of Summertime, romance of City Summertime is where I met Chris. Very early one morning at the end of a party on a rooftop the sun was rising in dusty pink fog a hangover of car horns greeting the day and Chris came over to me lazy shy kicking his skateboard around, passed me a joint and asked me where I go to school.
“I’m done with school,” I say, “y’know it’s summer, so no more school, no more books—“
“NO MORE TEACHERS’ DIRTY LOOKS” Chris says with a grin. He is goofy like a dropout like a bassist in a punk band. I want to light his cigarettes for him, carry his amp to practice. Buy beer for his drummer. Chris’ younger than me but not so much that it’d be creepy. We could be cousins, not siblings. Erotic meets courage and I’ve got a bit of sunburn but I’m fine.
Chris and I share his joint and listen to seagulls squawking towards the water. The party’s over and he asks if he can walk me home. There are no front lawns in the city but walking down my street there are already chubby kids in swimsuits jumping through sprinklers set up on the sidewalk. Ten a.m. and the uncle sitting with flattening beer and no shirt on melting plastic lawn chairs resting feet on fire hydrant. Break it open it’s a crime. I put my arm around Chris’ shoulders and he kisses my neck, even in morning light for the neighbors to see. We’re at my apartment...
For more, don't miss the Scorcher #6 release party Saturday night, May 21st at Blackout Bar.
