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  • The Paris Review

    The Age of Graffiti

    by Jane Stern Jan 04, 2018 3 minutes

    An abandoned pier in Philadelphia.

    In Danbury, Connecticut, off Interstate 84, there is an overpass festooned with graffiti scribbles. They have been there for three decades. No one has thought to erase them and, as far as I can tell, no one has added to them.

    The graffiti is of the basest kind. There is little attempt at artwork, design, or display. It is simply the names of yesterday’s rock-and-roll bands spray painted in black in adolescent calligraphy: the Who, Kiss, Commander Cody, Mountain.

    I drive under this overpass at

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