Dear State,
Who are you, Louisiana? Why do I love
you Baton Rouge? Why won’t you talk to
me? I didn’t mean to turn you off. Please don’t talk to me. Your presence is
too glorious. I adore you, New Orleans.
Don’t you care about spelling? Don’t you
care about grammar? Don’t love me too. I
love someone: I love you: I could love you! I have no idea what Union is. I have no idea what justice. Just confidence,
(that has to do with not telling others about your secrets,) not to be confused
with Sucrets, which I needed--the cherry flavor, a flavor so cheery. (I guess that’s where the word comes
from.) So when my child wakes up in the
morning, will I know anything about Louisiana?
I don’t want to go there? No, but on second thought I do. I don’t
need to go there? Come to think of it, why?
Once a solitary stranger went there, set out alone, without all the
rules that I had devised for myself in order to become perfect. It's not about a love story. Why consider it? We love shrimp same as flamingos, and just
like we loved Robin Williams. So not funny.
Why listen to what anybody says over anyone else? We have to listen to
something so it might as well be interesting. See, we can make sense. So in
conclusion, we all liked and did not like each other, especially when we were
young and beautiful; and, in conclusion, I’m sorry you went there, and you
too. You all went there without me, and
didn’t think a whit of me for going or not going, because you were there and
that’s where you were. Like I was here, and that’s where I was, end of
story.
In Louisiana we’ve got to be full with confidence, because we have sugar and a
gulf and we can do it. Like an oil rig, you got me? Why not let's just do it like the oil rigs we
see. It’s just what we all do with the body after all. It’s just instinct, or trial and error, which
some people are good at. Someday I might
not hurry down there for cane.
Sincerely,
Virginia's Silly
P.S. Moreover, it's absolutely gorgeous everywhere there, I'm sure of it.