Through the lower ninth ward

November 10th, 2015, 4pm

A quiet unseen but felt from the ground up is muting our footsteps, tucking itself into the corners of rotting houses, tightening around reeds of Johnson grass that blanket a decade’s worth of blighted lots. Unsettled ground. A pulse that’s flat-lined but the host is still blinking.

Ghosts walk the perimeter of a Brad Pitt housing project. Camaros park on paved driveways, geometric buildings all on stilts with slanted roofs and patch-worked paint jobs in obnoxious modern fashion. Out of sight a high school band marches through the streets, banana trees grow where sidewalks end. No stop signs, no garbage cans, skeletons of churches that ask to be left alone.

David Wade said thanks.

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rebel green

i wish i could rap

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