"Return to Bourbon" (The Gritty Underbelly of New Orleans)
I left my soul in a crawfish boil
And my transgressions in a taxicab, Where the driver was blind in one eye
And the meter was stabbed.
The gutter gurgles like a gospel hymn
Also, the rain comes down hard, like a drum, But Lord, I’d give up my rent-stained mattress
Just to feel that voodoo hum.
The Quarter ain’t what she used to be,
I, on the other hand, am not— I got a scar where my halo was
And a suitcase full of lies.
Mama called it the Devil’s playground,
I called it home with a grin—
'Cause even the rats tap dance down Chartres
When the bottle lets the jazz back in.
The hotel's wallpaper contained apparitions, And prayers scratched in the stalls.
They don’t ask where you came from,
how far down you fall. I sleep next to regret and rust now,
In a city too clean to trust—
However, I'd give up this silence for a good howl. in a shotgun residence with damaged ductwork. Yeah, I miss the roaches in the beignets,
The smell of blood and rain—
You are not forgiven by the city, But she’ll always know your name.
a gorgeous Eiffel tower is in the background of Peachtree Boulevard
We know it is not THE Eiffel tower, but it is amazing to see anyway
Atlanta Georgia has a flair all her own, her desserts are legend.
Hostas, foxglove, azaleas and wisteria trees line this piece of heaven.
I am lured into a pretty café with crepe myrtle trees and daisies.
The greeting is straight from the south “how ya’ll do’n?”
Beignets are brought to my table before I order.
Just a little something to tide you over, honey.
Yes, they still call you honey here, and it feels okay.
Other customers begin arriving in twos and threes.
I get out my novel and pretend to read,
Missing nothing, but pretending to miss everything
plotting my next six poems around strangers’ conversations.
Go to Massachusetts for its chowder,
in Maryland you’ll find tasty crab cakes.
Texas has their famous beef brisket rub,
KC says it’s good BBQ they make.
Head to Maine to dine on some lobster,
Florida’s Coconut Shrimp is best.
Montana cooks some fine mountain oysters,
Colorado’s lamb chops top off the west.
Eat some deep-fried pickles in Arkansas,
in California get their avocado toast.
Crisp Fries with vinegar in Delaware,
y’all, it’s them boiled peanuts that Georgia boasts.
Hot pork tenderloins of Indiana,
Hawaiian shaved ice, Beignets of La.
Wyoming’s Fry bread, Illinois’ Deep Dish,
Michigan Pasty, Cheesesteak from Pa.
You can travel around America,
even a few countries across the sea.
Anything you’ll find has yet to compare,
to my wife’s fried chicken and mac-n-cheese.
Poor soldier Andrew Jackson who
Attacked the British after peace
Was signed three weeks before at Ghent.
Unnecessary bravery
Is no less admirable for that.
He waves to patrons eating their
Beignets at the Café Du Monde.
Astride a horse, saluting with
His bicorn hat, and stern of face,
He looks less menacing than if
They cast him brandishing a sword.
But who can blame his victory
(Redundant though his conquest was),
The English might have occupied
The Crescent City, New Orleans.
Between Lake Ponchatrain and Gulf
Of Mexico the land is boggy here.
Once rains would pelt Orleans and make
A flood enough for fetid pools.
Pine coffins bobbed and knocked aloud
Discouraging the patronage
Of all the working girls for weeks.
But that was long before the war.
And British and Americans
Were mostly buried on high ground.
So no unnecessary dead
Were ever disinterred by rains
And washed some parishes away
Without their names on coffin lids
To now or ever be reclaimed.
The Crescent City
Ancestral roots are calling me
to Crescent City near the sea.
A city with its past displayed
where long ago the pirates played.
The glowing lights of Vieux Carré;
Café du Monde’s belov’d beignets,
and Creole foods prepared with flare;
it’s been so long since I’ve been there.
The Cajuns live life with pizazz
and everywhere sweet sounds of jazz.
These dreams are where I long to be,
this Crescent City near the sea.
December 19, 2022
Vieux Carré (pronounced VOO kah-RAY) translates to “old square “ in English. The French Quarter, the oldest neighborhood in New Orleans, is referred to as the “Vieux Carré.”
Beignet (pronounced bin-YEAH) is a French pastry.
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