Friday, January 18, 2013

The Frenchmen

photo © Mark Butkus 2015
Evangeline on Frenchmen Street New Orleans.

It was at the Maison
where they came to life
Amid the crush
of Saturday night

Smelling of beer
and some other smoke
they kicked the week away

Cajun souls with Creole blood
Forgotten foremothers forgotten forefathers
dripped with sweat upon the floor

On Frenchmen Street by Washington Square
They sell the resolve
of inspiration
to the highest bidder

She would dance alone
with everyone there
The one that lives in but a dream

A note sustained
until the morn
before succumbing
to morning prayers

On bended knee she spoke to God
Asking not forgiveness
but for next Saturday night

The boys would have a week to remember
The men would have a week to forget
the one they call Evangeline.


— Mark Butkus