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Published: 2009-12-29 19:11:52 +0000 UTC; Views: 218; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 2
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Description
New Orleans was stolen from meI had dreams of living
Among the lamps and heat
Talking French with the elders
Talking Jive with the youngers
Retiring every sweaty night
To turn experience into passion
Stone and sin and beer
Mix the mortar of my pages
Now all broken and underwater
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Comments: 4
Urbanskiver [2009-12-30 16:15:47 +0000 UTC]
Would have loved to visit pre-flood New Orleans. Other than the odd TV programme or news report I've got no idea what state the place is in now. Shame.
Anyway, nice poetry, if I say so myself.
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CaptainRaspberry In reply to a-iccara [2009-12-30 13:58:52 +0000 UTC]
Were you fortunate enough to have visited? Or, uh, unfortunate enough? Probably depends on when you went.
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a-iccara In reply to CaptainRaspberry [2009-12-31 19:44:43 +0000 UTC]
I live on the Mississippi gulf coast. I've been to New Orleans a few times before Katrina and I think once afterward, but also got a face full of Katrina m'self when it happened. Sad memories.
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