Collection

"Shoot into the sky, burn the city to the ground" - Anon. N.O.

When the rains came, and the walls collapsed under the lash of some furious tongue of hurricane song We were left clinging to rooftops, strung up on the bridges watching alligators accomodate those cats and corpses. Watching the burning sun steal out our breath. The glass streets of the Quarter, of Chartres and Bienville soaked With muddybottom and crayfish; the harbor doomed. The deep trombones resound beneath the water to send along the coffins yet again by light of a mockingbird moon.

Look-a-here, we thought, you could come and save us from our tumultuous home- Our home we said for all of time. Don't let us be buried here in your imaginations. Act now. You won't regret it; we'll give you our song...

The mystery deepens, like Gamorrah, and our town begins to haunt the American sleep. Oh man, we have always lived in your dreams but now this bitch, this Katrina, this killer come on down with her howler monkey song and broad dampening skirts has brought us so low that we may never make it to the table again. We're wading now with prickly eyes to the window just to see them X-cross an old floater. Our young are shocked with confusion at the silence, and the lies. Cars grow on sycamore trees. Houses flow by like fallen leaves. You'll remember us, dreaming, you will even if you cannot save us now.