plaid shirts and six packs

Listening to Leonard Cohen
while sitting on a raspberry coloured couch
covered in dog hair
that we've had since before I was born.
Lawn chairs slowly fill up
with people who don't have to ask
before they show up,
the neighbours hear the beckon of our laughter
and grab their six packs
before heading over.
Like every night before
and every night to come.
The next generation has taken over,
but the rituals remain the same.
The deck still has that one hole in it,
we use the same old ashtrays,
the yard is the same,
the boards are the same,
the pond is the same,
the gene pool is the same,
but here we are.
New and fresh in comparison.
We were born into a hellish world
and walked through the fire together,
hand in hand.
Which is how we remain today.
The parents that treated us like the garbage that we are
now are gone,
leaving us alone,
but a united front
against the cruelty of the riches
that lie across the train tracks.
Our childhoods are behind us,
but the memories that we all share
will forever be captured.
In our hearts,
in our minds,
on film,
and in our souls.
My footprints stain the hills behind our house
and the field that now has a fence around it.
I was here first.
And I know how to pick locks -
we all do.
We sit around and drink beer,
make a mess,
share cigarettes,
cause a riot,
raise hell,
pass a blunt,
take in the air as the day turns into night.
Our parents used to sit in these chairs after work
and let themselves wallow
in the second-rate lives that we all live
on this side of town
while us kids ran around the forest
and played hockey in the streets,
pushing each other on roller skates
and climbing trees.
Now,
we come home and change out of our work clothes,
let our hair down,
throw on whatever plaid shirt
or denim jacket
that isn't too dirty,
and light up a smoke.
Looking out the window to see whose backyard
will be hosting our motley crew tonight.
Drink it in.
This is where we belong.
We do not run,
we cannot leave,
we don't deserve anything more,
or less.
This is where it begins,
this is today,
and this is where it ends.
This is where we've found each other.
These are our roots.