Mushroom Jun's American travel United States, New Orleans angel or devil, the French district never gives a fixed answer, because they are hard to separate. I love the French-speaking area during the day. Every time I take a few steps, I feel like I am falling back in love. Whether it is a painter, a poet, a magician, a singer or a musician, or even those who run the train, but every word. The diviners who are full of excitement, they can always let people remove all the defenses, and wholeheartedly devote themselves to the interaction with them and get the happiness of being concerned. When walking in the French Quarter, I usually circumvent those storefronts with expensive paintings and ornaments. The artworks are for sale, but I can't take them at this stage. But there are always some good things that make people feel relaxed, and Erin's poem is one of them. On the street filled with the joy of saxophone, Erin sat quietly and wrote poetry. She was so quiet that she found her in the noisy street. "Proposition to write poetry", a sky blue sign stands at her feet, Erin raised her head and smiled at me, "I will use the artist on the street to write the theme of poetry," I said. Erin looked down and thought about inserting the paper into the old-fashioned typewriter. He started to knock it up. I waited quietly for a while before the clarinet band, and a hot poem was sent to me. Put the ink-stained paper in your pocket. This is what the French area belongs to me. She is different from everything she can see on this land. I will take her away.