Sunday, February 12, 2006

New Orleans

In the bend of the river we sat.



A languid symphony.

Come and stay.

Sweat and moan.

Delirious worship of the sordid.

Hot grease, sweet music, mother love.


Now a new woman comes to the temple.

She been here befo’,

‘dis time she mean bid’ness.

From half a world away,

from a whisper to a scream,

from a ripple to a wave.


Mean seas boil and flood,

black skies heave and blow.

The one two of wind and water.

She rages past and then,

stalking, she turns

like a hit man, and puts a knife in the back,

through the soul

of the Big Easy.


A castaway on a makeshift raft.

Tattered, baking, bloated.

Pleading with no one for help that will never come.

Quiet sweating death beneath her cruel white sun.


Anonymous said...

Get down girl..go head get down.

marknelson48496898 said...
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