kerouac's ghost: Plaquemines Parish, along the river. Middle of nowhere. Clicked this one, heard a shotgun blast from the woods and got the hell out of there.
kerouac's ghost: "Holy flowers floating in the air, were all these tired faces in the dawn of Jazz America." Jack Kerouac
kerouac's ghost: "I can hear my Zydeco and Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez, And take rides in open cars, My brother knows where the best bars are..." Crescent City / Lucinda Williams
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