“Mid-Morning Music”
Breakfast at the Bluebird Café,
on a back street near my house- eggs &
syrupy biscuit, black beans & black coffee.
How many bluebird cafes are there
over the face of the morning world?
Many. But I love this one.
I love this city, New Orleans.
It makes me feel the way
Siem Reap does, or Osaka, or London,
NYC, or Istanbul, or Luang Prabang-
like I am a part of something-
living&breathing inside
something living and breathing,
even when “eating or opening a window
or just walking dully along.”
My best pal Jon
(a Northerner, a big-city homosexual)
says he loves it here because when
he walks down St. Charles Avenue
the birds sing chirpity chirp
(he actually said that: “chirpity chirp”).
And this morning baby, they’re working
to prove his point- singing like
they’re on his side. We’re all on
the same side. Chirpity Chirp.
