Testo: Lawrence Arms. A Guided Tour Of Chicago. Detention.

baseball bats and salivating mouths in a square room, doors pocked. once again i'm alone insie a crowd, a misplaced throw, a misplaced swing and everything unfolds. a microcosm of humanity, a microcosm of cold ... the waves wash over another. anxiety, proximity erupting from the chemistry of testosterone, isolated until the first fists fly. instincts pushed to breaking points, surging bodies, snapping joints. two shoes lost inside a fray, two socks on laminated hardwood. 360 degrees into harms way. a length of lead grazed the side of my head. as others fall and others leave and others how their vampire teeth. two chunks from my neck, four lips that drip with skin, socks that slide as the blood runs down my neck or over two strange chins. there is no way out of detention. rage pushed a doorway down. fear carried me past the last contusions hurled at bodies on the ground. dizzy terrified awake in sweaty skin, "mom, i'm never going back to school again."