Inspired by Steve Veilleux's day 2 post "Porch Sitters"; taking me back to New Orleans on a hot Labour Day weekend. I had many photographs of deliberately faded walls, doors, flaking paint and windowsills; but in the end I went with an photo composite/composition from a piece I wrote while in NoLa titled The City, The River, The Wasteland.
Of course I can't tell you these things in real life. You left the dam in place but the river flowing and of course, of course there came a time when I burst my banks. I flooded you out of me. The salt crusted over my life, settled down on the surface as a reminder. I am in the wasted Lower 9th now and telling you about the city and the river would be a senseless vandalism of my hastily rebuilt levees. You will never know how it felt to be there.