New Orleans Blues

June 18, 2010

in Confessions,Lifestyle

The prompt: It’s Wordle time! This week’s words were pulled from a widely published poet’s work. Your prompt this week is to pick one or any number of these words and write a poem!

I’m to have my tea leaves read.
and they will tell
of my future success
and gumbo – shrimp.
The food burns my tongue with a
spiciness that can not be cooled by
water just as the zest of the culture
can not be experienced by one
afternoon in Jackson Square or one
night in the Plantation Hall Blues club.

The natives laugh as we
wear jackets when its 50 degrees out
and run indoors because of a little rain.

They laugh as we walk
fearfully down Bourbon Street
clutching at our purses and cameras.
They perform in the streets:
statues, singers, and the Silver Man.

Natives question if it is their dark, black
Faces that frighten us, keep us in hotels after dark,
or the dark legends of vampires that the
Queen of New Orleans has spun.
For a small fee you can tour
actual sites of vampiric crimes
and relive the terror of Mayfair.

It is these things that frighten us, and more.
The graves that rise above the ground
and the thieves that could leap out from behind
the stony tomb of Marie Levoe.

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