David Byrne is an honest man. I know: we're friends. I mean, we know each other. I mean, we've met. His album with St. Vincent, Love This Giant, is wonderful. It's not new, but it's worth returning to. This video is perfect for it: likely a typical day for David Byrne, when he's not riding his bicycle around Brooklyn. The man can still get down. Flashes of Life is about to release, and when I think about this book, I think about David Byrne. When I was new to the city, and still walking around Brooklyn, astonished by all there was to see, I ran into David Byrne for the first time. I was alone, on my way to BAM to hear some music. There he was--royalty--walking to BAM, just like me. I happened to have a poem with me that I was working on: a poem about him; well, a poem about the Talking Heads, but mostly about David Byrne. I gave it to him. And like hitting Annie Clark with a car, and then getting her up to dance with, he acted like this was a totally normal thing. That poem went on to have quite a future: it was published by Hobart, then I read it at a poetry festival where Paul Muldoon heard it and asked to have it for the New Yorker, and then I ran into David Byrne again, and told him the whole story. He'll almost definitely be at Berl's Poetry Shop next Wednesday at 7pm: so stop by if you want to see him boogie.