New Orleans Solo Poem by Frank Bana

The swirling music stops within a moment
The banjo cuts through heavy scented air
Its high-tuned strings ring out into the darkness
High water and the flood are everywhere

The music cooled the flood of '27
Spirits rose on high from burying grounds
The levees once again lie breached and broken
Upon the deep resistance of this sound

She lacked the holy places for protection
No-one embraced her with a masterplan
A city stripped of all her antecedents
Concessionary purchase, sold again

Shadows perch on annual celebration
Jazz is heard, but playing on the screen
The smell of money dampens oleander
Homeless and poor left scattered by the sea
.
Free passage for all those with eyes averted
No Joan of Arc to lead a cry of rage
The tall oaks echo to the banjo music,
New Orleans solo, naked up on stage.


with thanks to B.D.