If these cop cars had been going west on Flatbush in 1989, the drivers would have been looking into my living room. I lived at 76 6th Avenue, right above Royal Video. I’m thinking about the summer of 1989 not because it was wild bruh, but because of the ways in which it wasn’t. It felt like the streets might explode, and a vaguely hopeful kind of anxiety was common. But nothing exploded.
the number, another summer
the number, another summer
the number, another summer
If these cop cars had been going west on Flatbush in 1989, the drivers would have been looking into my living room. I lived at 76 6th Avenue, right above Royal Video. I’m thinking about the summer of 1989 not because it was wild bruh, but because of the ways in which it wasn’t. It felt like the streets might explode, and a vaguely hopeful kind of anxiety was common. But nothing exploded.