On New Orleans and Alabama, for some people from the latter, who liked this poem, God knows why

Flashy lights
off the whites of your teeth
in smile clad face masks
against the marching of kings

gesturing fools sway
their scepters of spirits
and call out:

A penny for my kingdom!

Each drawing umbilical
from the statehood

each stumbling
in herded comes,
in overcombs

and against the hum
the tight itchy stitch
of Polo Ralph Lauren

pitted stains
and layman’s tongues

drying in New Orleans sun.


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