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- Her Sleeping FormIt’s one in the morning; only the cat and I are still awake at this late hour. It (cat) sleeps during the daylight so that …
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Tag Archives: New Orleans
What Remains is Greater
It matters not how much the wind may blow, nor if the seas should rise up through the floor; the anchor of my craft is sunk below, and I am to this spot moored evermore. Should this fierce season flail … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged courage, daily poems, Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans, storms, stubbornness, weather
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As if the hazel mud
As if the hazel mud its edges flecked with dull green and salt-stain, cracked and peeling along the summer dry edges of the viaduct that ran its length, a brittle concrete spine, down through the creosote valley from cinder block … Continue reading
The Blackout
The streets are filled with idle, itching hands, their owners on the prowl in vain pursuit of some pastime to fill the vacant hours in darkened rooms enswamped with summer heat. Without their cellphones, TV sets and games, and fast-food … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged chaos, daily poems, fear, hurricanes, New Orleans, power, storms, technology
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The summer in New Orleans melts
The summer in New Orleans melts ambition from your bones; and inspires dreams of northern climes, of much more temperate zones where flowers last a day or two before they start to wilt, and the ground does not suck ravenous … Continue reading
A June night like a fat man at a bus stop
The fetid dark sits on the house like a fat man at the bus stop, sweat pooled on the plastic seat too narrow for his sturdy frame, and the night jasmine’s heavy scent assaults the senses, cloying sweet, like the … Continue reading
The Swarm
Like whirling dervishes they congregate around the bright lit porches and streetlamps, their bodies hurling like mad wax-winged clouds that seek where water meets with tender wood. Against their onslaught, darkened houses crouch low to the earth, hoping their bones … Continue reading
River Road
Down at the end of river road the houses show off concrete knees, with skirts drawn just above the mud that creeps up through the Augustine beginning early June. Some rivers, when they start, seem nothing like their parent ocean’s … Continue reading