The Last New Year’s Eve at the Pomp Room
Did you come for the burning,
or only to smell the highly amped guitars:
a crackle, some quavers,
sweat under the stage lights?
Torment yourself no longer.
Breathe deep and shake that ass free form,
to hell with the beat and booze.
And at 2 AM zoom your motor
for those that want to take you,
for those more lonesome than the hobo.
Charles Luden • 12-11-98 & 1-13-99 at Champps & E. 10th Hardee’s
Note: This took place Dec 31, 1998. I studied the place for years prior to this night: the music, the people, the rum and Cokes. This was written in two sessions, distilling the Pomp Room’s last night.
Pretty rockin’!
Pretty rockin!!
A Haiku for the Pomp
Wait, is that carpet?
I thought I just saw it move.
what was in that drink?
Losing the Pomp really Ertz.
Sy, you’re a funny fucker.
‘what was in that drink?’
LMAO. One night a friend spiked my SoCo on the rocks (My regular Pomp Room two-fer drink) with a tab of acid, and I didn’t know it until someone pointed it out. He said, “What are you up to tonight?” I said, “Not much.” He looks down in my glass and sees a lightning bolt tab floating and says, “Looks like someone is going to have fun.” I’m like, “Huh?” and I look down and said, “Oh, Boy.” I went to a Halloween party after that and when I got home Fonzi talked to me. It was a good night.
When ever I made the trip to SF, somewhere during the evening, I had to stop at the Pomp Room. Some nights it was for only one, some mornings after I wished it was only one.
That place rocked! The best was during the winter they would have a brooder house gas heater in the middle of the front hallway. I asked Ward one night if he was raising chickens?