Song of the Week: “My My Metrocard” by Le Tigre
High school: In 1997 I bought the CD version of Bikini Kill’s first two albums. Not as cool as owning them on cassette or vinyl, I know. Also, I wanted to like it but I didn’t get it. Also, most of my closer female friends in high school were lesbians or experimenting with their bisexuality. This meant that they’d drunkenly make out in a hot tub and I’d be there to hold their hair or–when they cut their hair off—rub their backs as they vomited, naked, into a toilet or into the bushes. I was afraid to have sex and I was afraid to dance. When Le Tigre’s first album came out in 1999, my friend Lucy and I went to the show somewhere in Jamaica Plain. She was making out with my friend Cecilia at the time. It was between our junior and senior year in high school, a summer of screen porches and skinny-dipping in Walden Pond. Le Tigre played at a local theater space on the second floor. Everyone was dancing. I was dancing. They got to their third song, “My My Metrocard,” before the show was canceled because the floor was collapsing under the weight of our flailing arms and ragged chucks. Lucy and I ran out of the theater. She dragged me into the woods behind the show to demonstrate that she could “piss standing up like a man.” She could. We were sweaty; I was not afraid.
Julia Cohen is the author of one book of poems (Triggermoon Triggermoon, 2011) and two forthcoming collections from Brooklyn Arts Press and Noemi Press. Her work appears in places like Black Warrior Review, Puerto del Sol, and New American Writing.
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