Clearly Distorted News, in Black and White

Live from New Orleans: toilets are terlets, business is bidness…

drinking all night, smoking cigarettes. i’m allergic. doesnt matter, better that way, more harmful. everybody is drunk, smoked out– the police too. smoking– in the city everybody is coughing– its cool to cough, cough, cough like tattoos. i got this cough smoking kool filters, baby. my friends– they have tattoos and get into fights. Virginia says: “Don you fucked me on my roof.” She doesn’t mean sex on the roof. She means “Don you overcharged me on my roof.” Don hears it as she means it: “That’s bidness, baby.” But this conversation is love, passionate, lovers only. So on it goes, like the birds, like the frogs, like the insects– back and forth. the natural cycle. about roofs, flooding, being fucked over, getting fucked, and why we can’t gat back into our homes. Get out of our trailers. Only they say it dif’rnt, mix up the prepositions. “We’re living on a trialer, in st. anne street on a trialer. Why you don’t understan’ mister? We’re living on a trailer!” The preposition struggle is monolithic. For many people from the lower ninth ward, certainly it will endure beyond poverty, maybe even beyond crack. No not beyond crack… Dont like it, go uptown– the girls are there, jaws clenched together from dexedrine and vicodin. Me spook you long time..