New Orleans
Sip brown colored fire water, intoxicated by blind musicians. Howling in syncopation, rhythm produced by bucking hips, musty and natural. Backroom phantoms move under covers. Moans make strange music inside the ears of voyeurs, who look and touch themselves.. Vicarious soul claps stolen from the badlands, killing fields, ghettos.
Smile a Louis Armstrong smile....




Comments (6)
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Join free Log inKingqadardwon'
Waaaaaan.. Shout out to the crescent city.. Great write my brother.. That's my stomping grounds... I'm a New Orleanian also..
Read Kingqadardwon''s poemscoalhouse
N.O. is my adopted town. I love the vibe,
Read coalhouse's poemsWoven
Great word choice, you draw your reader directly into this gritty jazz vibe. Enjoyed!
Read Woven's poemsCoalhouse
Humble thanks, just putting it down how I feel it..
Read Coalhouse's poemsWarriorCarryingWater

Nice flow!
Read WarriorCarryingWater's poemslove_supreme
Very nice
Read love_supreme's poems