Category Imagining America
I wanted to go home, home-home, England-home, Queen’s English and hot tea and rude strangers home. I wanted to float out across the horizon, to tread the invisible line between surging coal-dark sea and soaring coal-dark sky.
We dropped out of America and landed in a sea of flying beads and semi-nudity. New Orleans was like no place on earth and nowhere does Mardi Gras like New Orleanians…
I never wanted the journey to end but I would lean eagerly forward into the horizon, feeling somehow nostalgic for a future which lingered just beyond those Christmas tree buildings as they swung into view. I loved the sight of that city at night.