JB visited from Paris, and let me in on the latest post-punk fad to hit France, skinny jeans & mullets included: TECHTONIK.
I wish American kids spent more time on their roofs dancing like this…we’d have a lot less crime.
Here’s the tres chic clip…my favorite part is the first 3 seconds, where the guy pumps up his shoes.
2008 as a collection of so many new years
A man pawned sausages on the corner by the church; his breath
fizzed over the fire when he smiled, crowds of overdressed strangers
gathered around a television with bubbles
in their noses and sloppy grins falling out of their mouths, I peed
with a punk singer in a parking lot (him by the fence,
me between two cars and a brick wall) when
someone says later do you remember
walking past the windows of wealthy
businessmen’s homes in the evenings to examine their art with
what’s-his-name then
teaching him how to play the piano later in a crowded theatre
I’ll say can’t you see I’m still
playing, obviously, and he’s still next to me, and the sugar
from the 2003 cake I made with you, Reen, for that horrible party
never dissolved, I taste it in my sleep
I taste it in the morning
I taste it without remembering
the way it actually was (do you remember?) What will they say later
when the shades are drawn early and the city in its revelry
has forgotten us? What will the answer be
when I ask are we stronger for these clumsy bruised years?
Have we grown at all?