Memories

Part One: Matt Jules

Me and AC were watching SlamNation (all you real poets can start making fun of meeeeeeee…NOW!) and I was struck by how much Marc Smith (so what!) reminds me of an older version of Matt Jules. Matt, who I haven’t seen in years, was this heavy drinking, ex-military, construction worker and very talented performance poet.

One night at the Way Out Club, he did a piece with the following line:

“Hello, Auto-Erotic Suicide Hotline! …Oh yeah, baby! Put that big, hard, long straight razor to your throat and just PULL!”

He brought the fuckin’ house down. Back when we were still doing the open mic at Cummel’s, Matt did a solo show there. His flyers said “Cummel’s Cafe: at the corner of Father Washington and Mother Tucker.” Those of you who know downtown St. Louis can appreciate how clever that is.

One night, Charlie Mooningham (sp?) had a party/art opening in his studio space downtown. I was there and Matt was there. Matt tells me he has an extra ticket to see Ani DiFranco at the Fox. Neither of us owned an Ani DiFranco album and at the time I don’t think either of us had really listened to her music. How Jules got in possession of two tickets, God only knows. In spite of the fact that the two of us had never really hung out together, I said I’d go 

We met at the offices of Intermission Magazine and walked (past about 10 thousand lesbians) to the Fox Theatre to see Ani DiFranco and Maceo Parker. Yeah, I know. Odd. Since Matt came with the tickets, I bought the beer, which, with Jules, can be a break-even proposition. Maceo did this amazing set that I did not think Ani could follow, but she did. Fucking awesome show and now I have this memory to share with Matt Jules and truth be told, that may be the last time we ever saw each other.

Anyway, so flashback back to Charlie’s party. When the party winds down, Charlie lets us all on the roof of the building. We’re on top of this nine story building downtown and I notice that there are AIDS ribbons painted on the asphalt up and down Washington Avenue, but you can’t see them from the street, you can only see them from an elevated position.

Mallarie was there, so were Kevin and Andy and few of Charlie and Mark Triller’s friends . Matt is drunk, sitting on the ledge, nine stories up, screaming Shakespearian sonnets. I’m dancing around the roof naked, singing Doors songs. So, you got this drunk construction worker: “SHALL I COMPARE THEE TO A SUMMER’S DAY!” And this naked, black guy: “I AM THE LIZARD KING! I CAN DO ANYTHING!”

That, was the old stuff. God I miss my twenties.