Last Exit at Route 27 Jan Wozniak

Jan Wozniak

An early debut & quick to rise some drank, some smoked, some snorted hell—some even injected. Like wing’d birds taking flight soaring higher & higher— the rock gods of the 27 Club utter their incendiary anthems to the generations before them.

Quick to rise & early to fall some dosed, some drowned, some dropped the hammer hell—some even just shut down. With meteoric rise, comes meteoric fall Newton’s Third Law apparently applies— not only to physics, but to manic-depression as well.

Like the astronomical objects they signify these stars that shine, do— inevitably burn out. & in the fervent fires of the manic limelight that—

scorches their wings & in so doing marks the tragic descent of the Icarian free-falling inferno of gossip, of tabloids & scandals that scar the already fragile spirits, who— in purgatoried disorder, travel unaccompanied through all-too-familiar desolate depressive states on self-medicated desert highways mapped in blood & bone until— they abruptly discover, lying dead ahead their Last Exit untimely marked— at Route 27.