[Poem] To Bernadette O'Brien

Here’s a poem I wrote in May of 1996, after Bernadette O’Brien was crushed to death at a Smashing Pumpkins concert in Dublin. (most of it is reinterpretation of lyrics and/or incorporated of song titles from the Mellon Collie album)

Date: Wed, 15 May 1996 23:26:22 -0500 (CDT)
From: aknock@enterprise.net (Alistair Knock)
To: Smashing Pumpkins List smashing-pumpkins@cc.UManitoba.CA
Subject: Dublin

For those insensitive assholes in Dublin, ie. An Ode To No-One

Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness,
Or just a chance to prove your madness?

Tonight, Tonight, you’ll have some fun,
Tonight, Tonight, a fatal one.

Welcome to nowhere fast,
Don’t look at the future; look at the past.

She never let on, that she was down?
You just never bothered to look around.

The useless drag of another day,
remember, how she passed away.

Bullet With Butterfly Wings,
She collapses as they sing.

You ask us To Forgive your actions,
But we’ll never forget that brutal thrashing.

This message is for anyone who dares to be a fool,
Next time think before you join the pool.

Is that who you wanted to be?
A killer, taking lives for free?

You sing along to Cupid De Locke,
Are you happy, that her heart has stopped?

Too late to turn back now,
The question we want to know, is “how?”

Should we secure you with Muzzle and chain,
Or would our efforts be in vain?

Without a care in this whole world,
And because of you, her body lies cold.

Why oh why, there is no light,
What did you think, “she’s alright”?

The place Where Boys Fear To Tread,
Is where the trampled lay their head.

The empty bodies stand at rest,
Did you pass the sanity test?

The earth laughs beneath your heavy feet,
but people scream under the crush and heat.

She may be In The Arms Of Sleep,
I hope that you’ll forever weep.

1979, the year she was born.
1996, the year we mourn.

Tales Of A Scorched Earth,
Or nightmares about her tragic death.

Her innocence was treasure; her innocence meant death,
Did you even think, before her one, last, breath?

Jukebox, fuck-up, hanging round the drugstore,
Don’t you people care any more?

This is a hell on earth, we are meant to serve,
but you people will never learn.

We only come out at night,
To do what, stand and fight?

Beautiful, she may have been,
Beautiful, was not the scene.

You saw her raise her hand and wave,
So why didn’t you try to save?

By Starlight, we miss you,
and promise that we’ll solve this “issue”.

And so we say, Farewell And Goodnight,
I hope the bed bugs REALLY bite.

Al, 1996.

People can be quite shit, if they really put their minds into being careless. That’s quite a poignant poem. I remember that incident. It really bothered me at the time. Even though I was no great fan of the Smashing Pumpkins. I wonder if similar pieces were written in response to the crushing in Lagos a few months ago, or at the Haj in Minna (Saudi Arabia) earlier this week, where 14 people were killed in a stampede.

Surely the least dignified way to end what is a temporary and hence precious existence. To be slowly suffacated and defeated by the carelessness of a group of people, all around you, your killers faces to be seen.

Were you at that gig in Dublin?

I wasn’t at the gig, but went to another one on the same tour (my first). Can’t even remember whether it was before or after. But it can be a scary experience in the moshpit, and to think that many of the people down there at the front simply don’t notice if someone goes under… :angry: