The Big Uneasy
It was all good a week ago,
Bourbon Street was full of energy,
The air saturated with laughter, Gumbo, Jambalaya and Catfish.
The wind whispering sweet nothings in your ear,
Farewell to the last days of summer.
But in my slumber, hurricane season was here,
The wind no longer whispered, but she cried for help,
And suggested that we do the same.
As God's fury swept across the delta,
With a similar rage that had driven Hitler during the Holocaust,
The same "Big Easy" that was adored and cherished,
Had become as uneasy as an upset stomach.
In complete emotional distraught, I pinched myself,
Hoping to awaken from this Purgatory... and I did.
Only to find the ocean inhabiting the streets of New Orleans,
Filled with corpses, that swam through the water like schools of fish,
The air saturated with death, hunger, despondency and lamentation.
With my faith paralyzed, I turned to look up at the broken sky,
Seeking an answer from God about what had happened.
As if he had sighed before answering,
The same wind that had once whispered those sweet nothings, daintily cried,
Katrina, Katrina... Katrina.
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