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Dear everyone I met in America.

August 16, 2011 \pm\31 2:46 pm

There’s nothing quite like being the crying girl in the airport, especially for nine hours. I’m sat in Atlanta airport waiting for a plane that will take me back to the UK 365 days after walking out into a wall of humid heat for the first time.

I want to write something that communicates a little of how much this situation sucks.

I also want to say thank you. First of all, without the great generosity of one of your citizens (Bobby Jones), I would never have even gotten here. The smaller generosities, too, that I was given everyday made living here feel like an actual home, with severely distorted roots latching through the broken sidewalk. Not exactly having my shit together today just provided another example: on seeing the absolute state I was in, the rental car company drove me back to the airport without charging me, and my fabulous driver held me for a solid ten minutes while I cried AGAIN.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to get past my accent (though its prominence has certainly been lost).

Thank you to the amazing writers of Atlanta– especially Bruce Covey and Heather Christle for making me a better poet.

Thank you to the musicians and artists whose sense of community is awe-inspiring. Especially letting random people into their houses for shows.

Thank you to Little Five Points and East Atlanta and the Highlands and sorry for being a drunken ass in you so often.

Thank you to everyone who randomly complimented me on the street. I will miss your kind a lot.

Thank you to the one waiter at the hangover breakfast place who made the most awkward moments hilarious.

Thank you to the people who knew me and loved me and let me share your life.

Where am I going with this? I am going to hit a perfectly blank wall. The summing up of large experience always seems impossible. I’m a poet not a novelist and I work in fragments.

And yeh, I know America isn’t perfect. I’m still going to be baffled by your higher education, lack of universal healthcare, gun laws and capital punishment. Hell, it still freaks me out that you call crisps ‘chips’ and chips ‘fries’. I blame your country for increasing my caffeine intake and for making me disdainful of my own country’s literary scene.

I also blame you for being the best and weirdest and most loving home I’ve ever had.

One Comment
  1. August 16, 2011 \pm\31 5:04 pm 5:04 pm

    You will be missed on these shores.

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