Farewell New Orleans

Dear New Orleans,

I am thinking about killing you tonight. For too long I've sat in the Atlantic, waiting for my opportunity to take my shot at you and your pretentious old-world stigmata - meets modern-nuclear-decadence. What did you expect? A love letter. How can I love you when you swallow so many into your voodoo mash of French obtrusion. So many blow-jobs on the crowded street corners, too many palms being read (when we all know that it's complete horse-shit), mass consumption of mushrooms and other psychadelic drugs, as you parade your dead down the streets to the sarcophagi that dot the cemetaries, while old men with trumpets and trombones, dressed in striped hats throw confetti along the sidewalks. Your spicy foods and holistic medicines can't save you now. What were you thinking when you squatted in the Mississippi Delta? Are you really that naive? Haven't you been beaten by the Ol' Mississip' enough to know to stop your evil ways? Is this what it is going to take?

You know, it might be a good idea, if you're fortunate enough to have the chance, to plant yourself above sea-level. Seems like common sense to me, and I'm a whirling, mass of air, with meteoric confusion at all times...and even I'm smart enough to know that. I've been traveling for awhile...got my sea legs underneath me, and made a stop on the way at Miami to slap the shit out of their shiny faces and bring them down a notch. Write a song about what I did there Will Smith...I'll bet it won't bring smiling faces, barely dressed to hit the chic Latino clubs!

So, I'm not far from you now, and I'm throwing the hay-maker tonite. I'd suggest you wrap up your formal goodbye's to your cajun-soaked, fleur de lis-covered, mess of an existence. I suppose the kids will be able to find a place to expose breasts and genitals somewhere else. I'm not real sure, and to be honest, that's of no concern to me. I've got my eye set on the bigger picture, but believe me I've definitely saved my best for the French Quarter.

You've survived the War of 1812, mass repeated attempts by the Mississippi to take you out, and even God has stayed his hand from crumbling your structures to dust, but my friend...you haven't seen anything like me yet. I have a lust for vengeance, and you happen to be in my way. I'll pass over you like rolling thunder, pounding your economic structures and more than likely, taking a few lives while I'm at it. I'll rain hell on you for a brief period of time, and then I'll slowly move inward where I'll eventually die out a peaceful death, bringing slow soothing rains to the Great Plains. But you my friend...you will be my mark in this eternity. I'll live forever through the punishment I induce upon you. You'll struggle for years, and as my fruits are sprouting in Missourri and Arkansas, you'll wonder what happened in that sour year of 2005.

Oh...you'll see the beads fly tonight...that I promise!

Expect my arrival soon...

Sincerely,

Katrina