From: "gene tanta" <gtanta@hotmail.com>

In New Orleans, I remember seeing cemetery cockroaches thriving by moonlight cutting our paths portentously as any black-cat. Those were some happy, fat roaches munching on the regal dead of the regal city. The trees held on to what they believed . . .

I don't have direct contact with the river, but I would like to offer my humble resources (i.e., places to stay, guide to local corruption, cynical cracks of wit's whip).