Saint Orleans  - A poem
There was no sleeping in NOLA
Was it the sugar?
beignets, chocolate croissants, 
chicory coffee, sweet tea, 
creole pralines, bread pudding with bourbon, 
king's cake, the original banana's foster
Was it the starch?
muffuletta, turtle soup,
shrimp andouille, crawfish etouffee,
po-boys, gumbo,
jambalaya, red beans and rice
Was it the sound?
from the pale, aged, fat-used-to-be-frat boys cheering and jeering, 
the jazz band, the soul singers, the street cleaners
Was it the smell?
baked bread, back-water, 
Mississippi mud, 
urine, feces, 
stale beer, spilt liquor
Was it the sights?
death, life, 
masks, blood, 
gardens, gates, 
alligators, voo-doo trinkets, 
beads, crypts,
bouffants that taunt, 
the carnage of what was,
gold for power, purple for justice, green for faith, 
the places and faces that do not carry those colors
Was it the sugar, the starch, the sound, the smell, the sights that took sleep?
No sleep - just life, death, life, death, life, death
Sleep only comes in the embrace of Saint Orleans, 
who does not exist, 
only life, death, life, death.

Notice I went when it was bright and sunny outside
Eeerie and foreboding even when it's bright and sunny 
One of many meals with no vegetables
God bless N'awlins

How do you sleep when you're traveling?
What's the most disturbing thing you've seen on the streets?
What's the most beautiful?

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