life is a stranger in boots
snake skin patterns moving
through wet night streets
and that blooming howl
on Bourbon Street cuts through
what’s left of your dark soul
Jazz notes falling into pieces
across reflective night streets
And when you’re strangely happy
you know you’re snake skin too
And when you’re deranged beneath
moss trees on a pirogue floating
a night spent in LaLaurie Mansion
will make the best
of other-worldly friends
life is a stranger in boots
and snake patterns know the moves
a cascading undulating twist
through Mississippi mud too
Marie Delphine LaLaurie loves you
She will invite you to stay a night
and that slave you become is ghostly
a torture for a slice of social life
And the mobs outraged == she fled
or maybe not…the moss knows

:: 04-22-2014 ::