The bridges in Milltown are mostly pre-War and the rivets bleed rust in long shit-colored stains. If you were born here after 1970 the city was never safe and The Steel was never strong. The limp-dick trails of blue smoke barely rising over Milton County between the Lehigh and the Delaware wave like thin bone fingers when you’re driving through the mountains toward New Jersey or New Enlgand and everything below you is a clichéd rustbelt crèche. A goddamn fucking joke. You go to college somewhere else and pick another shitty town to repeat your parents’ lives in so you can say you left. Success is changing zip-codes.

The bridges in Milltown are mostly pre-War and the rivets bleed rust in long shit-colored stains. If you were born here after 1970 the city was never safe and The Steel was never strong. The limp-dick trails of blue smoke barely rising over Milton County between the Lehigh and the Delaware wave like thin bone fingers when you’re driving through the mountains toward New Jersey or New Enlgand and everything below you is a clichéd rustbelt crèche. A goddamn fucking joke. You go to college somewhere else and pick another shitty town to repeat your parents’ lives in so you can say you left. Success is changing zip-codes.

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Fiction As War « christopher cocca (via nbr)

Wow.