Poetry Contest!!! Try to top Bucky's effort in post # 6

see this thread:

http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=364x1621868

I remember New Orleans, the first time around
I was underage and you allowed me to drink freely
And for that I respected you dearly.
Those oversize beers. That carefree spirit. Just what an 18-year-old needed.

I remember my uncle wrestling a female stripper in a Bourbon Street bar
As a transvestite ring announcer played guitar
And the man next to me smoked a smelly cigar.
I was under your spell, for that scene never seemed bizarre.

I remember the jazz and the blues and that voodoo vibe, the way you had that jovial jive

I remember New Orleans, the second time around.
Mardi Gras, purple beads, flowing booze, flashing boobs
That girl with the rose tattoo.
Five days and nights of drunken debauchery, derelict duties and depraved deeds.

I remember confusing Cajun with Creole and consuming crawfish in the Quarter,
And kissing a girl named Katrina in a crowded club called Cat’s Meow
Katrina, I told her, your name is so sexy
Corona, she told me, my glass is so empty

I remember the jazz and the blues and that voodoo vibe, the way you had that jovial jive

I remember New Orleans, the third time around.
New Years Eve. Sugar Bowl.
Canes. Gators.
Brawls on Bourbon.
Sweet Superdome. Innocence unscathed.
The horrors to come, years away.

Hurricanes routed, we got rowdy
Hurricane cocktails, fueled the party
The night was spent, boasting on Bourbon.
Canes in the house, don’t even try it

I remember the jazz and the blues and that voodoo vibe, the way you had that jovial jive

I remember New Orleans, the fourth time around
A five-day stop on a road trip home.
I was alone and free to roam.
I played chess with a man named Hal on Canal, the street that drowned living up to its name.
I drank a hurricane in the August rain, still thinking that Katrina was a sexy name.

Beignets at Café du Monde
Muffelata’s from Central Grocery
Shrimp po’ boys from The Alibi.
It was hard to say good-bye, but my money was running dry
And my time was passing by.

I remember the jazz and the blues and that voodoo vibe, the way you had that jovial jive

I remember Katrina when she was just a flirting storm, teasing our coast like a virgin whore.
I remember inviting her inside, and how she pushed me aside, removing that mask and revealing that bitch inside.

I remember Katrina headed for your coast, I am woman, hear me roar
Show me this city of legend lore.
No longer the virgin whore, but a hardcore witch out for war.

I remember Katrina barreling into the bayou, lashing at you as she swept right by you
Lacerating your levees and liquidating your streets, littering your homes with lifeless limbs

I remember how they left you to die as Nero ate cake and fiddled with his fly.
As you clung to your rooftops, water neck high, telling the world you were still alive.

I remember your cries, your demands for help
Please get us out of here, it’s a living hell
And I remember the crime was broadcast live around the world
La mort à Nouvelle-orléans. Una tristezza

And I remember how on the fifth day after you had passed away
Nero arrived and the band began to play

Oh here he comes, oh here he comes
Oh when the Smirk comes marching in
Everything must stop, for another photo op
Oh when the Smirk comes marching in

And I remember thinking how I will never forget the jazz and the blues and that voodoo vibe, the way you had that jovial jive

And I remember thinking of the people I met the year before, that sultry summer of 2004.
The hustlers, the jokers, the street performers, the musicians, the artists, the waiters, the bartenders
That creative culture of Cajuns and Creoles and Color
That was not afraid to cry out and say

"Be free, be yourself, and to hell with everybody else"

And I remember realizing how much of you they must despise, which is why they turned a blind eye
Leaving you to your demise

And I remember how they said they’re going to rebuild you, bigger and better than ever
And I knew that meant richer and whiter forever

And I was left mourning.
Too angry to respect your death with a jazzy New Orleans-style funeral procession.
There would be no more dancing on Decatur.

I watched The Libertine last night, and I've been reading some of the Earl of Rochester's poems, so this is going to be rather filthy, I'm afraid...hope it doesn't get deleted :D

I love my Louisiana
She's such a naughty little whore
Fucked the sailors down in Storyville
And had them clamouring for more
Sucked off tourists in the Vieux Carre
And drove them wild with oral skill
Sent 'em off with eyes all starry,
When of fucking they had their fill

I love my Louisiana
Fickle wench though she may be,
Her seductive, lying, faithless ways.
A joy and torment unto me
She leaves me spent, in a drunken haze
And takes up with another
I know she'll never change her ways
Yet I can desire no other

I love my Louisiana.
Against all sanity and reason
She drives me mad, we fight like dogs
Then rut like elks in season
Louisiana, how I love thee!

and this thread is thus now rather pointless.

These new mods need to chill out a bit