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By chris Date: 2007 Mar 13 Comment on this Work [[2007.03.13.00.11.5873]] |
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Three days of fever with high desert spring coming on is like waking up in New Orleans three weeks before Katrina in the still-summer dark forgetting for a moment where you are and why and parting your hotel room curtains to see a night world lit by fire and always - somewhere - faint promises of g-strings and jazz. It's like hearing one of your bario students read you and only you his poems of guns and mota and God and then fall silent for the next ten years. It's like how you think of New Orleans now like you think of friends you saw once and never again like the women who once crowded your bed now faceless more and more like wind-ravaged sphinx along a blue Nile. It's like wars started for no real reason and that never end except when you close your eyes and will the sun to set everywhere at once bringing sleep to every eye making the earth safe finally for the wolves in Minnesota and the grasshoppers in Oklahoma and the lovers who will awake tomorrow. |