took a few days off from the
everyday drudgery and toil
Saturday night
my wife and I stayed outside the city
hung with a buddy of roughly 25 years
it was nice to catch up
we are all getting old
a weathered and battered
version of what once was
…so is rotting
leaving the hotel to see him
my gun fell to the elevator floor
I literally shit a .38
I knew it was going to happen when
it dropped to my crotch area
I say, “sorry gentlemen, I’m a
concealed carry holder.”
I look to my wife
“I thought you clipped it to my belt.”
Luckily there were no kids
or ballpark moms in the
elevator at that time
only a half-drunk ballpark
dad swaying, saying,
“I’m a permit holder, too.”
as well as a large
‘I know it all’ type personality
who barked, “I’m from Texas,
that shit don’t bother me.”
followed by their contrived talk
of firearms for the next 8 seconds
once in the car
we laughed like loonies
later that night
we had 2 spinach salads
with no spinach
Sunday
we attended Zydeco fest
we stood and sat in the sweltering
humid heat under a cypress tree
listening to French-Cajun music
her glistening and me dripping
we walked to the creole tomato
festival in the French Market
a festival dedicated to a
fruit disguised as a vegetable
heard rather blah versions
of both jazz and blues
we perused vendors from afar
peddling mostly mass-marketed wares
a literal cooking as the
national heatwave intensifies
casually strolled past numerous
seemingly dead people on the street
we stop to admire a building
with spectacular architecture
as a man’s cocknballs hung out of
his gym shorts as he lie
sleeping or dead in the entryway
it turns out
it was the Supreme Court building
Sunday night
while waiting on a
food order to be ready
I had another drink I did not need
less than a block away from
leaving the restaurant
the bottom of the the bag gave way
spilling red beans and
gumbo on the wretched sidewalk
drunk and pissed
a condoling onlooker ‘awed’ a
sad face as I salvaged what I could
you can’t cry over spilled gumbo
you can however
drunkenly curse and fume
Monday
we partook a guided tour
the only legal entrance
to St. Louise #1
one of the oldest above ground
continually active cemeteries
dating back to the early 1800’s
dragging and smothering
triple digit heat index
sweating profusely
agitated
I didn’t take a photo of
Marie Laveau’s tomb
however
there is rich history there
as well as the literal
faint smell of death
during one stroll through the city
we noticed a large family of 5
bust into a sprint down the sidewalk
we thought it may have been the smell
of urine or feces or possibly
a dead addict on the sidewalk
but they were only trying to catch
the St. Charles streetcar
Tuesday night
we attended a
show at Preservation hall
a quaint and intimate experience
jazz musicians putting in work
geniuses in action
as I begin this piece
12 stories in the sky
sirens scream and howl
someone somewhere
is fighting to live
or fighting to die
.
Gloomy Forebodings 