America's suburbia in the days before smartphones and AirPods at the very time of life when the aimless youth are waking up to their disillusionment at

the world their parents were planting for them. These starkly direct poems speak to the human need for authentic community and escape before they

drown in middle-class expectations. The characters, places, and times are pulled from a lived experience and expanded into a universal narrative

around the search for something sustainable and true. Adam Oyster-Sands has written a love letter to punk and to those who wove in and out of

the various shows, record shops, skate spots, and fast-food joints of his formative years. Whether you've spent a Saturday night in a circle pit and

Sunday morning in a church pew or not, don't call us punk because we hate that speaks to anyone who, at the exact right time, found their people in

the unexpected places beyond the boundaries of a world passed to them through the stories they inherit.