SoCal, Whatever
UT Kirin
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It was constant in LA Punk shows whenever Drinks like a sailor SoCal, whatever you like Those were the years when we Were having the hardest of times Why do I miss them the most Want to go back to that house Want to play host to a house show A band from Toronto Stayed five to a room Had two EPs and no label Had nothing better to do Threw broken glass at the moon Well I puked all over my room I swore I'd never be Hungover again And I would get better friends No drinks beyond 10 PM Could not get through the next weekend And I'm weak as a femur Snapped clean at the Preakness While those setting sun hedonists Call to me from the beaches It was a slog I looked at charts I took a shot out in the dark Got myself started on a project to stop Getting thrown out of the bars And got into Dartmouth for a PhD in sociology I burned the tattoos off my forearms And hurried to the library And the sky became darker much earlier Than I had remembered from back out in Glendale With ice in my lashes Coming home to a cold stone masonry dorm room I stop and close my eyes on the doorstep Feel the sun of Pasadena And the sound of a bass amp In a burned out theater comes Drifting through the walls of a lecture As I'm running my fingers On the ancient initials carved into the maple The kid in hardcore bands That I was then won't understand Cause flying to LAX and back again Was never supposed to mean something to me And that grass isn't green It's the goldenrod sepia of a sun-flecked daydream Here is the place where you found out what old was This is the state where you learned what alone does I watched the years turn, 2010, 2012 Accumulated wealth And kept an eye on my health Kept the grass clipped biweekly Collected books on the shelf While out in SoCal Fentanyl took first my drummer And then my brother So I flew out And at the funeral, the punks looked gravely older And they wore suits but underneath They still had sleeves up to their shoulders Forgotten soldiers in a war In which they fought for themselves Against some adolescent trauma They couldn't see or dispel The axis across which we each hit thirty-five Sees one of us in the ground The other distant but alive Within these New England clothes I look impenetrable I'd like to be there with you But I've worked too hard on myself To cry in the grass While they scatter his ashes And ask why it happened And think of the past When we skipped all our classes To go to band practices Fame was inevitable Just reach out and grasp it
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