deluging Bourbon Street at Carnival.
Baby, maybe some lagniappe and dry that water…
The displaced bathroom towels darken to ocher
as rainwater inundates them and the parade
washes away. The ocher reminds him of veins
reddening as a shrimp boils and he loses his dream—
his gecko chambre thaws with the ice. Maybe it’s just the same—
hunting for the soft worms and saving the defrosted shrimp
in the first hurricane meal shared by all of the city;
shrimp salad made with melting reveries.
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