The City of Interzone — temporary, autonomous, anarchic, chaotic — in William S. Burroughs' Naked Lunch (1959).

I used to imagine it as 'home'.

"Cooking smells of all countries hang over the City, a haze of opium, hashish, the resinous red smoke of Yage, smell of the jungle and salt water and the rotting river and dried excrement and sweat and genitals...

"The City is visited by epidemics of violence, and the untended dead are eaten by vultures in the streets. Albinos blink in the sun."

@ccohanlon I read him quite a bit in the 80s. Reading 'Opium' by Martin Booth (fascinating author). Burroughs' description brings nostalgia for wilder days roving about. Now it's violence wo the tattered realities of unregulated times.

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