Nawlins Revisit, part 1, triggered by Hydro and Elyslund
by C.S. Scotkin
Flew to Nawlins. Flyin away from northern losses too difficult to bear.
Saw her first through a dirty window,
didn’t know a soul. Most specially, mine.
Had a hundred dollars in my pocket, that was all, standing
between me and freezing to death in northeast solitary confinement.
I asked the cabbie where could one stay with limited means…
His glowing Black face smiled from the mirror…
drove me to a boarding house on Magazine..
for “White Christian Ladiesâ€Â.
Paid my twenty for a bed and 2 meals a day for one week.
This place is clean, bare.
Met my first palmetto bug in a tub,
screaming so loudly they heard me on Canal.
Landlady smiles at me in pity and squashes it…
Read the classifieds and rode a trolley Uptown,
open mouth wonder, I am Alice.
And got the job! A live in housekeeper,
my own castle in the basement
to fight dragons who picked up my scent.
I would be overpaid to cook two meals a day,
run errands and take the old Doc fishin once in a while.
The rest of the time was mine.
Exploring Audubon Park, French Quarter,
ears that reel from so many accents.
Artists in Jackson square, Café du Monde,
LSU tigers, see alligators in the bayous.
Oysters, grits, gumbo, jambalaya, muffeletta,.
Strange names,
learn to pronounce words properly, CAL-yope , not Cal-LYE-o-pee.
To be continued….
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