Downtown along the river bank
the party has begun;
from miles away the slow parade
of cars and people come
for fried dough or some boudin balls,
for gator on a stick,
for cheap and warm domestic beer
and wristbands that won’t stick.
Across the social register
today the lines are blurred.
The crowd is mixed in all the ways
that make judgments absurd:
the color bar, the young and old,
the college and the town,
those with, and more of those without
than most days can be found
here on the pleasant, verdant shore
against the brick-lined street.
Hello there, great to see you here!
No saccharine tastes so sweet.
For special patrons, private tents
keep out some of the heat;
the rest of us spend hours walking
up and down the street.
The music seems an afterthought,
almost just ambiance;
an ever-changing set of songs
accompanying the dance.
13 APR 2013
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