there upon the cusp of evening my eyes are bright, my breast is heaving all the things i'm taking-leaving as if they were my own
crooked houses line the broken streets and from my hatted head to my fleet feets some steady backstreet back-beat beats right down into the bone
rochambeau, slip stitch and pass fais-dodo, you bet your ass 'til the last are first and first are last and every bell be rung
tricksters tempting with their tricks the eager throng upon the bricks a candid kaleidoscopic mix where every song is sung
I hear it now amidst the stars rattling betwixt the cars spilling from the crowded bars squawking in the park
festooned in trees and scintillating the birds and bees anticipating the radiance just radiating such light against the dark
from the corner where I hang my hat to the pristine purring of the cat and the perpetual remembrance that's spinning yarns of secret weave
my eyes are bright, my breast is heaving there upon the cusp of evening I love this city like I love breathing if you don't believe me you don't believe
-Carnival 2024 New Orleans