Suite Marigny

Suite Marigny

I can smell Jasmine
covering this morning
like a wide cotton bedsheet
of white class lace.
Still I tasts her breath of coffee
& cigarettes & mary jane
& Bloody Mary coughing
on the banquette
by the gate...

of this courtyard in the Marigny.
I lay me down my soul to sleep.
But the Heat won't let me.
So I lie
awake
& dream...

of a dog park
well, a bald green lot,
with two trees
beside the coffee warehouse.
You can see the bags loading
in off the dock.
You can feel it on your skin
when they roast it up.
There the people gather
with their very best friends
& drink in the shade,
& talk in the wind
as this flat ByWater sunrise finds them
laying down
their entire lives.

There was a time
when all these houses built from barge wood
gave strong men right livelyhood
as they flooded in from the river.

You may know the sounds of unbroken belief
with a bucket of seed and the pigeons beside you
while you slide down the wet stones of the street
to a little cafe' named for the Goddess of Flowers,
where the 8 Ball lines up with Lucky 13,
& Snake Eyes & Diamonds & Demons In Chains.
Still the Angel waits for St. Ann to begin
with her mask made of sorrow,
& her laugh made of sin.

So when i die
please carry me down Royal Street
with a brass band and a 2nd line beat
to a courtyard in the Marigny
...to lay me down
my soul to sleep.


new orleans, spring 2005