Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore
(from The Freezer Door)
I’M PRETTY SURE there’s nothing as sexual for me as walking shirtless in the hot sun toward the pounding bass of a sound system telling me I’m about to dance. The vocal in the song says “Just like 1994”, which it’s not, not at all, but maybe when I get home I’ll look up this song that proves nostalgia now zooms in right to the time of my formation—the nostalgia of the early-’90s was all about the ’70s, but now we have both and neither one is true, as nostalgia can never be, but anyway I’m dancing, that’s the important part. I’m dancing outside in the blazing sun, shoes and socks and shirt off, sweat dripping down my face underneath the sunglasses and hat that are protecting my eyes from too much light. I’m dancing down at the bottom of the hill, right by the sound system, but only about four other people are dancing with me.