America, Whither Went the Dream?

On the hunt for the spectres of an American dream long departed

The underbelly of the American Dream is scarred with the trackmarks of half-glimpsed spectres.

‘As you pull open the rusted door of a long abandoned Impala, you can almost hear the kids running around the motor court, shooting each other with sparking silver ray guns amidst the phantom chords of a bygone era echoing from the busted radio set.’

– Carl Byron Batson cruising through the badlands and pitstops of a desert fantasy that never dropped the curtain.

Photos by Carl Byron Batson. Not to be reproduced without express prior permission.

Read more:

Part One
Part Two

Carl Byron Batson
About Carl Byron Batson 306 Articles
Photographer, published poet, former party animal, body builder, grave robber to the stars and renowned chainsaw juggler, Carl can often be spotted on his Harley Davidson pretending to be in Terminator 2. He is also frequently seen in the press pits of old London town, camera in hand, avoiding being hit by bottles of wee and crippling his opposition with secret Kung Fu moves.

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