The Secret Symbolism Behind Lou Reed’s Choice to Never Wear Brown Revealed in G. S. Katz’s Poem
What is it about Lou Reed that so effortlessly drags us into the gritty, shadowy underbelly of New York City’s punk soul? It’s as if every leather-clad vision, every jangling, off-kilter guitar chord, and whisper of seedy motel rooms come alive under his spell. The rawness of heroin haze, the unapologetic embrace of freaks and lovers old and new—Lou wasn’t just a musician; he was our radio static, our anthem for the beautifully damaged. Somehow, pain turned sweet, and chaos found a rhythm when he sang. But now that punk’s captain has quietly slipped into darkness, the question lingers—can the wild spirit survive without its fearless leader? It’s a melancholic dance, a tribute not only to the man but to the very soul of the city that shaped him. Dive in if you dare, but beware: this isn’t just a poem—it’s a pulse that refuses to stop beating.
Black
Gray
Leather
The original Punk
Kid from Long Island
Who blasted into our Rock psyche
Heroin
Alcohol Haze
Sweet Jane
New Sensations
Halloween
Walks on the Wild Side
You could always depend on Lou
Always in our NYC mantra
Sex
Motorcycles
Freaks
Gays before there were Gays
Hard women
Transsexual lullabies
Tops
Bottoms
Bdsm
Lower East Side
Pain because it felt good
The music
Searing guitars
Off key slightly
Seedy one night stands
Sex in cheap hotels
With bad lighting
Somehow it wasn’t so bad
When Lou sang about it
One thing is for sure
Punk is wounded
We lost our Captain
Who went quietly into the dark night
R.I.P. Lou
You will be missed
Thank you
For never wearing brown…
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