New Orleans & New York.
& somedays, after reading about some little girl getting shot by the cops in some kind of fucking cross-fire & having yet another friend jumped by a bunch of idiot bangers trying to rob enough money to buy some fucking Nikes & maybe a gram & some 40s...
& watching a pack of Guatemalan illegals do a shit job of rebuilding our city & yet still finding myself goddam dragged into sympathy because of the undeniable fact that absentee landlord fucks are criminally underpaying these same Guats while simu raising our rents to near NYC prices because they know we have no other choice, no other place to live...
No home like this one...
& then having to listen, yet ever again to some white trash Metairie chunk of wasted DNA tell me how it is with the niggers and the fags and the spics.... Oh & go Bush & praise Jesus too.
& some fucking bead-swaddled amateur of a tourist and his fat-ass wife wanna hear the gritty details of my Storm Story... Because I'm obviously idling in existence solely to entertain them.... & then they ask me why we all just didnt leave when we were supposed to....
Ask me why families who own no car, have no savings & live $4000 under the poverty level... They ask me why they didn't just rent a car, pack up the kids and head for a holiday in Austin?
& can I make them a hurricane, wait... Two hurricanes, please.
& then, a 21 yr-old un-weened child-student from Tulane, trashed on pop's CC, rants at me, rants verbatim unadulterated theory from his most recent poli-sci course...
Tells me how I should start paying attention to my immediate environment....
Tells me to wake up.
& all to the ambient noise of the City fucking us...
& the Feds fucking us....
& ultimately punctuated by the staccato bang-bang of us fucking ourselves....
These moments, I feel just like homeboy in 'The 25th hour'.
