Blog Archives

Headin’ Home

Seems I’ve lost my mind
Out past the point of caring;
I’m sitting here quietly,
So why is everyone staring?
I need’ve have yelled,
And I hate to shout,
But can someone please direct me
To the door that leads out?
Putting this house on the market,
Gonna get back to the parishes;
Find that bend in the river
And live in a light that nourishes.
Maybe find that creole girl—
The one with a heart of crawfish and gold!
She’d be settling to take me on,
The real sad truth be half-times retold.
Seems I’ve lost my mind
Somewheres way over there;
I’m sitting here so quietly,
But man, how the arresting officer does stare.
He don’t know I’m heading home,
Once I get the next clear chance.
Hey ti’ fille:
Wanna dance?

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New Years’ Plea

Wannabe summers else
Fall into a new line
Get a rented house
That’s all mine
Leave this center
Of pompous lies
Creole up some love
Eat too many alligator pies
Win my own witchy woman
Neath a sly Cajun Moon
Get me outta here man
Before I do sumpthin stooped soon
Hours slow counting down
New Years is right oer there
Open the Mumm’s?
Not sure I very much really care
Just find get a new zip
Somewhere south of I-10
Come on man
Don’t make me beg again
Wanna be summers else
Listen to alligators stalking
Finally finish that cool book
By Mister S. Hawking
If you hear this plea
Text me soon—
Let’s all dance underneath
The next sly Cajun Moon

Who’s That Old Man?

Looking at Sixty-two
Right in the face
Reminds me that soon
I gotta get out of this place
Back to the Crescent City
To ride a streetcar or two
Hang with my brother apes
Pay full cover at Audubon Zoo

Looking at Sixty-two
Who’s that old man?
Gotta dance some Cajun
Just as soon as I can
Meet John at Da Leaf
Then relax with David at the Columns
Then real beau coups soon
I can let go all these little problems

Looking at Sixty-two
Born in the magic year 1955
Wanna prove them all wrong
And gonna get out of here alive
Just one more beignet
And/or a Merlot-filled glass or two
Then it won’t be all that special
That tomorrow I turn sixty-two

Cordially

The light is failing
As are my eyes;
Put away all those becauses
That came with you lies.
Cordially,
We’d wet the drain;
I’m not all that sure
I ever want to see you again.
The year is ending,
As is my sentence down here.
How far to the river’s bend
And all that southern good cheer?
Smartly,
Stay in Kalamazoo:
A reunion in Cyprimont
Is all I will need of you.
My glass is empty
Just like my heart;
Were we really all over
Right from the start?