Katrina levee
Voodoo Woman’s water breaks
Wash our Blues away
Act I
Scene I
2008
As the moon breaches the Eastern horizon she arises for her ritual
mahogany refugee manifesting African realities in American effigy
she peers into the mirror
meticulously slathering a MAC facade onto a dark deceivingly stark canvas
getting glamorous for her date with escapism
Scene II
Her stiletto heels click a rhythmic cadence
kissing the faces of immense steel sentinels that have replaced her neighborhood
she is sleepless in Seattle,
in Dallas, the Big Apple,
Atlanta, Salt Lake City or Washington D.C.
nocturnal queen walking beneath flickering streetlamps
in a lost angel metropolis or hailing a taxi in the Windy City
headed for the club district again
Scene III
As the alien cityscape sprints past her window
her separation anxiety begins to flare again
she closes her eyes and whispers her spirit a lullaby for consolation
almost home
almost home
this is her new existence
full of unfamiliar sights by day
but transforming back into the lower ninth when the night falls
she tips the cabbie as she arrives at the night spot
outside she sees a dagger tongued arachnid
leaning in to whisper sweet nothings
into the ear of a giggling glitter caterpillar
and she remembers her first time
she remembers home
almost home
almost home
stiletto heel rhythm clicking briskly
she reaches the bouncer
passes the velvet rope and reanimates
happy to be back in the place where everybody knows her face
and no one knows her name
she is only 18
but her displaced age old scars
find a familiar razor’s edge by the bar
the DJ spins earsplitting tantric anthems to her backside
drowning out the background sounds
of Cancer crabs grabbing
the innards of black men and women
like her and her and her and him
she sits silent
gingerly gripping her lipstick tipped Virginia Slims cigarette
flicking it’s ashes and peering into its smoldering rosebud
she considers how far she’s come
only to end up a fixture in dens like this one
her legs have become estranged by a trail of deranged minstrels
soulless men attempting to find God at his old address
her inner space is sore and shredded
but here she is again
continuing her descent
attempting to amend the divine oversight
of her survival bar side her ghost filled womb gapes open
jaded hoping waiting for the next chrome totting jester
to invest in his dick with distilled spirits
she sits there
wishing for a new trick to rent her
a Glinlivet filled snifter
an elixir in which she can dip her memories
and numb the pain
finally he sees her
she sees him
he seizes his chance and three drinks later she is dancing
beginning to forget the day the rain came once again
Katrina levee
Voodoo Woman’s water breaks
Wash our Blues away
Scene IV
At the witching hour they leave together
headed to an all too familiar rendezvous
three blocks away
a short stay motel
sweat stained bed drenched in the remnants of prior indiscretions
as the ritual begins she disconnects
he doesn’t notice
he is a Martian astronaut geologist digging for gems beneath Venus’s crust
only to discover stardust
water logged bodies
and a granite heart thumping an elegy
he comes and goes
promising to call
she sneers dismissively
knowing better
she reflects
“you never can tell with some men… he may even mean well…”
but insanity is the only fellow that never left her side
she knows his style
always true to form he never ever disappoints her
even tragedy hasn’t the decency to sleep next to her after he climaxes
he hits and runs
they always hit and run
silence
she sighs as she rises
midnight phoenix ascending from the ashes of her innocence
stiletto heels click a rhythmic cadence
back to reality
collapsing into a restless prostration
fading as the stars begin to vanish and the city
opens it’s eyes
Katrina levee
Voodoo Woman’s water breaks
Wash our Blues away
Act II Scene I
Flashback 2005
Southeastern Louisiana August heat
Trapped in the attic for the past 16 hours
nowhere
no one to run to
a crimson river bubbles up to the surface of a tumultuous obsidian abyss
contractions attack her ravenous and relentless like
her family’s backhanded quips about her ancestry and the
vicious insults about her chocolate skin that singed themselves
into her inner sense of self
she browns out and nearly collapses
snapped back to consciousness by the acrid stench of death
she struggles to stand erect but
another labor pain doubles her over
buckling her knees
shoving her nose to nose with her own distorted contorted reflection
a motor oil slick waltzes in polychromatic paisley patterns
poverty’s artwork wafting on a toxic canvas of
raw sewage
river water
rotting meat
bleach
discarded syringes and gasoline
liquor bottles
insulation strips
insects
asbestos
pesticides
birth blood
tear drops and God’s wrath
bloody bare knuckles desperately impact the ceiling
as she attempts to reach the sun
No wait baby
Wait no don’t come yet
Momma’s gotta reach the sun
God HELP us
GOD HELP us
God help us
Katrina levee
Voodoo Woman’s water breaks
Wash our Blues away
She wails in agony as his head breaches her hymen
her tongue is numb from calling on God
calls for Momma stop in mid air
dropping into the concoction
sinking to the bottom
drowning like her baby boy beginning to kick sporadic
bloody knuckles thrash frantic
the abyss is getting deeper
minute old hands thrash frantic
where is Grand momma’s Jesus when you need him
she is screaming
her six year old brother’s lifeless arm floats over
draping her shoulder
consoling her post mortem
ancestral uncle ushering her son into the afterlife so soon
No wait baby
Wait no don’t come yet
Momma’s gotta reach the sun
God HELP us
Katrina levee
Voodoo Woman’s water breaks
Wash our Blues away
Scene II
Thrice denied by the divine
The kicking stops
The punching stops
The praying stops
The feeling stops
Silence
Sledge hammer explosions usher in the sun
She doesn’t even hear them
She is limp
Senses numb
Young would be mother
Dragged from the attic
and wrapped in a flannel comforter
Nothing left to struggle for
There is no land of opportunity
There is no land
Snapshot
Blue Skies
Black Water
Black Bodies
Blues People
Red Eyes
White Hands
Black Guns
Blue Eyes
Black Cameras
New Baby
Blue Baby
Blue

Baby

Noose lynched umbilical cord hanging from heaven
Limp infant pendulum swinging in the breeze
21st century picnic postcard
He came too soon
He ^ came too late
He came too soon
He ^ came too late
Cyclical refrain revolving in the darkness of her consciousness
Katrina levee
Voodoo Woman’s water breaks
Wash our Blues away
Scene III
September 11
2005
FEMA trailer solitary cell sweltering
She sits listless
Peering into empty space
Images censored
Deemed too explicit for CNN she’s been skinned
alive
repeatedly beaten by sanctimonious sensibilities and shifting eyes
She is invisible
Told to get over it over and over again
Considered invincible
Told to get over it over and over again
spirited from the
spirited from the Superdome
to Astrodome to the four winds
her neglected post traumatic stress descending into perpetual yesterdays
as her existence is eclipsed by the next Paris Hilton headline
repeatedly told she should be grateful that they came to save her
she cries herself to sleep at night
knowing better
grieving parents recognize
that there are some things worse than death

“So many of these people in the arena here, you know
were underprivileged anyway so this (chuckle)
this is working very well for them.” – Barbara Bush

Katrina levee
Voodoo Woman’s water breaks
Wash our Blues away
Act I
Scene I
2008
She’s awakened by a passing train
Another tear soaked pillow
As the moon breaches the Eastern horizon
And she arises for her ritual
Mahogany refugee manifesting African realities
in American effigy
She peers into the mirror
knowing