Last night a musician friend brought me to Joe's Pub for their monthly Happy Endings series, where three authors read, bookended by a musician, this time the Will Oldham-esque singer/songwriter Mathew Houck -- stage name “Phosphorescent” -- easily the gangliest, eeriest guy I've ever seen casually hoist a Corona.
After some poetry that nimbly veered between darkness and carrot cake, and a first dominatrix experience recap that sought neither to impress or absolve (but did involve the quick-thinking redirection of an old man's pee stream), the third author read from a memoir loosely centered around his father's peacocking, Ginsberg-ian penis. He then closed with a holy-rolling reading of the Prosperity Gospel, which he swore would absolve the entire room of credit-card debt, student loans and, for New Yorkers who at least once had money, delinquent mortgage payments.
As I always do on phosphorescent penis evenings, I later grabbed a hot pastrami at the St. Marks Grocery deli counter. They have some of the most creative tip-inducers around, shit that really makes you want to hand over those Washingtons. A few months ago, it was “MAKE IT RAIN”, which just looks hilarious taped on a cracked plastic cup. Last night, it was “IT PUTS THE TIP IN THE BASKET”. So this guy got a little more prosperous, but instead of speaking in tongues, he used Silence.
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