by shawn misener
youâ€™re a staunch tuna sandwich
a familiar mars bar
the drunk guy giving quarters to some floozy
at the end of the bar
youâ€™re the reality
and the meth the billy brewed
in his moldy basement
youâ€™re a dead dream
rolled up and decomposing
in the industrial park by the dam
oh melting molding city
youâ€™ll forget me when I leave
and youâ€™ll keep me warm
in your fungus folds
if I must stay in this
0 thoughts on “Lansing”
I wonder if this photo was taken in Lansing Michigan. I don’t recall the space. Lansing doesn’t have those picturesque cramped city spaces that you find in Chitown and Brooklyn. Well, maybe a couple, but you only find those at at three in the morning when you’re trying to find your way home from the bar. No, Lansing is mostly barren, open spaces, big roads, everything set back from the road. Too much space, there is essentially no notable space here, minus a couple gems in Old Town and the East side.
Now that I look again, the port-a-potty reminds me of Lansing. Except here there’s always like thirteen a row, and you’re waiting in line for one at a half-lame festival where the Guess Who run through “No Sugar Tonight” for a crowd mostly seated on fold-out chairs.
your description of Lansing is interesting. I’ve never been there, so I had it pictured more like the photo, which maybe influenced the picture your poem drew in my head. I was in Pittsburg for a week last august, and your poem reminded me of that, quite a bit, which probably also influence the picture in my head. Either way though, the poem works – it creates a picture, even if its not the one you had in mind.
I’ve read about how much of the state of Michigan is going to shit economically because they “put all their eggs in one basket” so to speak, regarding the automotive industry which has been going to shit for a while now. Michigan is a rich topic. David Morley has some good ones about his life growing up in Flint.
Yes, the photo is actually taken in some “who knows where” part of Lansing.
Lansing is compared to a lot of things and none of them seem to be good…The title ‘Lansing’ could conceivably be replaced by ‘Britney Spears’ and the poem would work doubly…but i don’t mean any disrespect (to Lansing) or Misener.
In the town i work, one factory I worked went out of business; another I was layed off; another, I quit right before the factory closed down…and seems fast-food is overtaking much of industry’s low pay. Everything’s going or gone to China etc. I’m just not much on joining the tertiary sector (service businesses) or being a bank-teller or working for the government (paid with taxes); but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
Nothing lasts…not love, nor industry, nor the seeming invincibility of the American Dream…and it sure goes to shit when that bubble bursts! Good one, man! After reading this poem, I recommend watching Mayazaki’s ‘NausicaA’.