CHERRY VANILLA
PERFORMER
In 1978, Cherry Vanilla called herself “the bard of the hard and the tarot’s fool.” She continued, “I’ve got a hot reputation, and I keep playing it cool.” 42 years later, Cherry Vanilla hasn’t changed.
Cherry Vanilla was a pre-queer queer who smashed the glass ceiling and stomped on gender stereotypes. At a time when women were supposed to be seen and not heard, Cherry was heard and most definitely seen, with a cherry tattoo on her bare breasts. For the longest time, she was the only woman who frequented the gay sex Mecca, Fire Island.
An actor who started at the height of New York’s Off-Off-Broadway scene, in 1971, Cherry went on to star in the London productions of Andy Warhol's gender-bending play, Pork. A young, aspiring David Bowie was forever impacted by Pork and hired Cherry to be his publicist in the 1970s at the peak of his Ziggy Stardust fame.
In 1974, Cherry reinvented herself as a musician. In 1977, she took her punk act to Europe where The Police served as her backing band. In her 30s, nearly 15 years older than most of her punk peers, she threw down with the best of them singing fast and loud poetry songs about sex all the while donning a shirt that said “Lick Me.”
Like It Is
No children in the playground
No lovers in the park
No laughter from the corner bar
Not even after dark
This world so full of wonder
now sealed-off like a tomb
And just when springtime fills the air
with lilacs in full bloom
It's never been so quiet
It's never been so sad
And those who aren't dying
are slowly going mad
I had my solo dinner
I took my daily walk
It's nothing like it used to be
when we would sit and talk
I don't know where it's going
and no one really does
But all we long and pray for
is that it just be like it was
THE FOLLOWING SOCIAL DISTANCING POETRY HAS NEVER BEEN PUBLISHED BEFORE
Sunday Pandemic Poem
The air has never been so fresh
the sky so clear and blue
But when this plague is over
I wonder what we'll do
Have the spiritual awakening
that most are hoping for
Or go back to treating Mother Earth
like she's our fucking whore
Pandemic Poem
Wearing masks is now the norm
Be it in sunshine or in storm
Accept we must this current style
But how are we to see a smile?
