Monday, December 23, 2013
cares and I didn’t. We wheeled through the sultry old light of Algiers,
back on the ferry, back toward the muddy-splashed crabb’d old ships
across the river, back on Canal, and out; on a two-lane hiway to Baton
Rouge in purple darkness; swung west there, cross’t the Mississippi at a
place called Port Allen and tore across the state of Louisiana in a
matter of three hours. Port Allen---Poor Allen---where the river’s all
rain and roses in a misty pinpoint darkness and where we swung around a
circular drive in yellow foglight and suddenly saw the great black body
below a bridge and crossed eternity again. What is the Mississippi
River?---a washed clod in the rainy night, a soft plopping from drooping
Missouri banks, a dissolving, a riding of the tide down the eternal
waterbed, a contribution to brown foams, a voyaging past endless vales
and trees and levees, down along, down along, by Memphis, Greenville,
Eudora, Vicksburg, Natchez, Port Allen, and Port Orleans and Point of
Deltas, by Potash, Venice and the Night’s Great Gulf, and out. So the
stars shine warm in the Gulf of Mexico at night. From the soft and
thunderous Carib comes electricity, and from the Continental Divide
where rain and rivers are decided come swirls, and the little raindrop
that in Dakota fell and gathered mud and roses rises resurrected from
the sea and flies on back to go and bloom again in waving mells of the
Mississippi’s bed, and lives again. So we Americans together tend as
rain to the All-River of Togetherness to the sea, and out, and we don’t
know where. With the radio on to a mystery program, and as I looked out
the window and saw a sign that said USE COOPER’S PAINT and I said “Okay I
will” we rolled across the hoodwink night of the great Louisiana
plains---Lawtell, Eunice, Kinder and DeQuincey, western rickety towns
becoming more bayou-like as we reached the Sabine. In old Opelousas I
went into a grocery store to buy bread and cheese while Neal saw to the
gas and oil. It was just a shack; I could hear the family eating supper
in the back. I waited a minute; they went on talking. I took bread and
cheese and slipped out the door. We had barely enough money to make
Frisco. Meanwhile Neal took a carton of cigarettes from the gas station
and we were stocked for the voyage---gas, oil, cigarettes and
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