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Love Dust Around Our Feet
By Rudolph Lewis
We lunch at
Madeleine's. Thirteen years
of silence and
this moment, smoked turkey
breast, spinach quiche, and brewed
coffee.
Crushed leaves echo at the river's bend
always drums, New Orleans drumming
harsh
memories and old hurts
beneath hearing.
Oh the blues! The blues!
milk &
blood of this creole woman,
a weaver of
purple-starred nights,
a
lotus
sweating
scented sheets, soaked in lifeblood.
We down bitterroot with our Uptown
meal
of Bob
Kaufman and Marcus Christian
soul draining dissertations &
published books.
Our souls struggle to hold up damp delta skies
hard bitter pebbles of
discontent killing us slowly
Those sweet hours on Piety St. blown
like funky jazz notes off a
muddy river.
I whisk away dust as the wheels roll out the station.
posted 28 April 2002 |