The worst story I ever wrote
Defective Poetry

The big guns


Last summer I listened to the French Kicks on my headphones all the time, feeling bright and powerful. Like I could stay up all night writing and never be alone.

Then we went and saw them live and the performance was a total letdown. The lanky lead singer hid behind a mop of curly hair. They looked sloppy. They played sloppy. I kept waiting for them to get it together and sound like they sound in my head, buzzing and hot like July. Shawn said they were probably on drugs. Why didn’t I think of that? Am I naïve? Is that why they made me feel high?

I’m sick of everything that used to turn me on.
I wanted everything but it took too long.

It’s summer again and I have avoided last year’s music. I thought it would be foolhardy, maybe even depressing, to play that soundtrack again. However. “One More Time” just came on my iPod and I feel like a fool, A FOOL, for not bringing out the big guns sooner. French Kicks, I still love you.

One More Time mp3



Hell yeah, Hannah! This made me laugh such that Foxy got scared of me!

You are not naive; you are optimistic. I love that.


I saw the Kicks in San Fran once....and I watched Stumpf stumble around in a stupor as he told us "it's not what it seems." I was're right....everyone thinks you are drunk and really you're slung on heroin.

By the way...what a line: "I watched Stumpf stumble around in a stupor."

The comments to this entry are closed.