House parties in Brooklyn, 2007

June 2025

in 2007 we would all gather in a 
replica of a grandmother’s basement
to cosplay poverty and drink PBR.

it felt real because i was actually poor
and bed-stuy wasn’t cool yet.

we would stumble 
down to some mansion
rotting with age and shaking from live music 
usually trombones and electronica, some avant garde thing that four kids in their twenties
and one old creep
would improvise.

we’d wander the floors like a funhouse and
observe each room like a poor-man’s MOMA. 
it felt real because the host was actually a trust fund kid who left the building rotting
for artistic effect.

the 2008 crash drove us down to our real grandparents’ basements
but a lot of us still drink PBR.