#one being the makeshift viking funeral he was given

[rustbeltjessie]

KxHxCxP

we weren’t kicked out of our houses / we were let loose / left to roam / left to haunt / the basements & garages / we didn’t run away from / our families we just sorta floated / like ghosts in the cabbage fields / corn fields / in the basements & garages / our parents didn’t hate us they just / sorta didn’t know what to do with our anger & sorrow & / lust so they left us to our own devices / or they were too busy with their own rage & sadness so we / tried to build our own homes / (in the basements & garages) / but we brought all that brutality / all that / destruction with us / cemented it into the fucking / foundation cuz our blueprints were a testament / to dysfunction / & we sang we’re a happy family / huddled / together sniffing glue & snorting speed / in our basement & garage-land / started bands that only lasted for one day / with distorted guitars / half-broken drum kits / & bassists with no / sense of rhythm / we fucked on sofas belching / stuffing & springs (these things hooked themselves / to our nerve endings & to this day / a damp whiff  of mildew / a sharp gust of gasoline turns us / the fuck on) / made plywood skate ramps in suburban driveways / skinned knees / broke bones / we drank cases & cases & / circles & marathons of Blue Ribbon / High Life / Milwaukee’s Beast / listened to d-beat records & slammed into / each other / it was all about slamming / the beer / the sex / the hardcore / anything that could bruise the blues out of us & into / someone / anyone else / sometimes we made jokes about suicide (we were only half / joking) / about the gun in the basement / the exhaust pipe in the garage / our laughter choked us / we didn’t so much wanna die / we wanted to escape / the crash-course trajectory of our town / get off the shit-job growing-old path  / get out of our basement & / garage tombs / we emerged into suburban dusks / a gang of filthy kids / we lurked in the downtown of boarded-up windows / spray painted slogans / baseball bats swinging we smashed trash cans & cracked / the skulls of nazi skins (anything to bruise / the blues) / we drove down county roads in the summer-dark / parked / in the middle of nowhere / we did it in cornfields while nighthawks swooped & hollered / their electric peent our mating / song / we wandered tiny old graveyards / spooked but too tough to admit it / got stoned in the fetid rows / of cabbage fields (see us comin’ thro / the fog into the fracture between night / & dawn) then back to the basement / back / to the garage / & yes that was all so long / ago it’s just a legend / a ghost / story / & here I am growing older despite / those teenage stabs at living fast & / I know one day I’ll die here / in the homeland / so / let it be known old friends / if you’re reading this / you sad drunk hoodlums better give me a viking’s funeral / build a raft of plywood & beer cans / use punk piknik flyers (torn from / basement walls) for kindling / douse it all with the gas can / nicked from the garage & flick your lit / cigarettes onto my corpse until whoosh / push the pyre out onto Lake Michigan / watch me burn the way we all did once / until I’m nothing but an after-image / seared behind your eyes / tell the next generation of kids about me / (& the one after that) so when they / creep out of the basements & garages / to haunt the town / they’ll see the red-gold flash of sunrise on the horizon / over the lake & say / it’s that old lady / that ghost girl / that legend / & say look at that motherfucker who finally / escaped the basements & garages

—Jessie Lynn McMains, from Wisconsin Death Trip

#jessie lynn mcmains #poetry #poets on tumblr #kenosha #punk #khcp #misspent youth #trauma #violence #drugs #death #my writing #wisconsin death trip #was thinking about this one #in light of jack's death #for two reasons: #one being the makeshift viking funeral he was given #the other being that i referenced 'my ancestral homeland new jersey' in this poem #because when i talk about my misspent youth i often think of that song #think of it as 'my ancestral homeland wisconsin'