New Orleans, La.

NOLA rhymes flow upwards in gutters’ miasmic outgassing;
Passing strange, this mangy memory that follows me home:
“Mom, can I keep her?”
A cur, true, but beautiful, broken bodied, bright with teeth,
A new belief brings old lies to their knees.
Pleading my case before anyone who’ll listen, nola contendere.

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6 thoughts on “New Orleans, La.

    1. You gotta go. Like the poem says, rhymes outgas from fetid sewers. Creativity, madness, joie de vivre all mixed into one.

      sorry about the pun, can’t help it, I’m a sucker for a pun’s sucker punch…

      Like

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