Revenge Boat Forever

Pulling out of this harbour Ding ding
Headed for your town. Ahoy.

Here sails the son of a bitch.
Have you met my mother? Yes. She taught me
How to be dangerous, but my father never taught me
How to kill a thing. I had to teach myself with
Hardcore, Black Flag, Bad Brains, Minor Threat, all the bands
History forgot.
History forgets, memory forgets, intentionally, forever.

There is no Lisa Thi in this poem.

If I can declare myself emperer of this town
By standing on a rooftop overlooking Main Street.
Then I can claim revenge by leaving it. Those old houses
Disintegrating without Clay Blancett. Those cabinets
Never built out of cherry, they never knew me. Ah the wasted
Economy of it all. Here is my curse for you:

Waste, slowly, for the length of your life.

Have your rednecks on your roof, Greeneville, have your Git-R-Dun. Have your trailer dotted eternity. Your Baptist-centered daycare. Your blighted pine-tree Appalachia. Your stunted conversation. Your fucking humorless, stunted, conversation. You can have that with yourselves. Forever. You’re not worth wasting a rapture on.

This revenge boat is sailing for better waters.