Monday, March 7, 2011


today is a day for ribaldry...
and young women who show their tits
for cheap, shiny, colorful beads.
and the young ones get drunk.
and the old ones get drunker.
and people puke on street corners.
and billy clubs drip blood.
and money passes hands.
and jails are filled.
and 'Nawlins serves up cheap drinks,
at expensive prices.
watered down alcohol,
and the gumbo is spicy.
and the whores walk their walk.
and the desperate howl at the moon.
and the rich sleep in fine hotels.
while street people hide under cardboard shanties.
they breathe dank air into emphysemic lungs.
then the sun comes up as usual.
or the rain blows blustery sheets.
and ash wednesday is welcomed.
then all is fine,
as street cleaners work.
and the party continues for most.
but a few have lenten promises to keep.
no meat until holy easter.
sacrifice, denial, and prayer...
are to atone for the nights sins.
it's as if all will be well,
but in reality it isn't.
the drunks and the people of god,
are one and the same.
they are children of this imperfect world.
they are followers of insane dictums and behaviors.
strange dualities are possessed by man.
show me your tits tonight.
tomorrow i will receive my ashes.
remind me of my mortality.
all in this world can be cleaned up.
then dirtied again.
then cleaned up.
this is the cycle.
it never ends.


  1. Laissez le Bon temp rouler! Let the goodtimes roll! Moooooonpie! Love it!