bayous hold the sagewise knowledge
of the slumber-soaked lands of New Acadie
lifeblood of mud and darkwater
lazily smiling bank vaults of the organic
bellyful of secrets and throwaway dreams.
here lies the bicycle of Glenn, a Pont Breaux vanishling of 1958, the rich, red-brown fur of oxidization long since growing over the color of his 7 year old pride; hugger orange like Papa’s car. a murky monument to his mother’s sorrow that only the catfish know.
as the aromatic swampsyrup slides solemnly through the town of Evangeline
it washes the prints of soul and finger
from Jeanne’s bane, all nine millimeters
exploding soberly through her though he never was until her father found him.
under Duperier bridge a pinhead-treasure
covered by a silted blanket is the ring of
Mary; love withered her insides long before
bitter fury withered her outside. here she
drew back and loosed her future, falling
slowly with its pain-parachute
dream-bubble burst by a tiny splish in 1969
The memories of joy are catalogued in
the spider-legged oaks of antiquity as they claw their way into heaven, but dark secrets require dark waters and the spirit of the snake.