New Orleans your wet day drive-by’s
are hot blood hot saucing in roadway’s potholes of mush-mud.
New Orleans your witchcraft soul-saved me from husband- heartbreak,
drafted to be wed by the cast bones of a brood hen.
Back pat back pat doing good.
Out the draft, the thrown bones,
out the marriage, new home.
New Orleans got that back pat,
doing good. Rain clucks the clothes line,
porch smiles and a black cat.
Sheets soaked in red wine.
New Orleans to boil tap,
fizz fast to be on time— — real late.
Lead pipes with a Who Dat,
wet days kiss mouth on the first date. Who Dat you fuck good,
crescent moon mugging my body moanin’ like mammas durin’ birthin’, lifted
skirts got that trip on the street jazz electric blue.
Second time, trip on the cracks,
trip on the lift-skirt walk, second line— throw bones.
New Orleans not my home but you real nice.
Real nice been real good, feeling fine moon manners,
whatchu mean I can be nice?
Whatchu mean I can smile?
Whatchu do? baby You good?
mornin ma’am when you walkin’—
Kiss mouth on the first date. Second time all the time any time never late
lead pipe back pat husband what’s good? Lead pipe back pat sheets soaked in red—wine
Who Dat? Husband’s second line.
New Orleans not my home but you real nice.
Real nice been real good, feeling fine.
New Orleans your wet days,
drive-by’s, are a hot blood
hot saucing on roadways,
potholes in the mush-mud.
