THE BIG EASY
__________________
Big Easy
Vieux Carré
Not a Pot to Piss In
Lounge Lizard
Vieux Carré HooDoo Voodoo
Seven Inches
Bad Boyz from Gretna
Zeppo the Spaz
Rough Trade
Man Child
________________
Big Easy
“human freedom,
its rare and its
elusiveness...”
—Toni Morrison,
Playing in the Dark:
Whiteness and the
Literary Imagination
Sometimes it’s easy—
To give up being so
Copasetic & blue for the
Deep South thing
Black nights and—
Gay rights for me
And my Dinge Whitey
Literary imagination
Meanwhile Katrina—
Still haunts me with
Its flooded ruins and
Levee lowland exiles
With forty percent of—
Poor black Southerners
Still stuck in diaspora
Stinking trailers
You can still smell it—
The Big Easy rotting
Decaying Deep South
My Decadent Other
Vieux Carré
“Beckon to big
Black bucks—
Life guards
On de sho!!!”
—Ishmael Reed,
“Harlem Tom Toms,”
Mumbo Jumbo
O Vieux Carré great Negro sea—
Black writers swim like me
In your sad-eyed deep waters
Engulf me, watery Vieux Carré!!!
Summon the levee floods—
Send them back to whitey hell
Torpedo Katrina the Bitch
Sink her cruel Titanic tits!!!
Dreadful Hurricane Whore—
Mississippi Mistress of Ruin
Drowning Old Folks in Attics
Capsized Big Easy Gone Dayz!!!
Catfish whiskers awake!!!—
Pelicans fly back from the gulf
Demon-headed Zoot-suited
Carpet baggers go home…
Not a Pot to Piss In
“When I was young
and didn’t have a
pot to piss in”
—Andrei Codrescu,
“Not a Pot to Piss In,”
The Muse Is Always Half-
Dressed in New Orleans
It’s a lot more fun—
Being an Exquisite Corpse
Smoking pot rather than
Just pissing in one
Older & wiser—
Now that I’ve blown it
So much for Delphi and
The Nude Delta Muse
My decadent Southern—
Imagination a cornucopia
Copasetic with Rimbaud
Sitting in his Crapper
Lounge Lizard
“He isn’t one of those
Drugstore cowboys
Or creepers”
—Ishmael Reed,
Mumbo Jumbo
I wear a black hat—
With a snakeskin headband
With black scarabs and a
Trench-coat to my ankles
I wear shiny black boots—
Blunt-toed Civil War style
And a chartreuse vest with
Dead black orchid designs
I have a way with women—
And the boyz at Lafitte’s
I’m a Lizard Lounge man
A black Jesus cocksucker
I gets the hots for—
Young naïve whitey sailor boyz
They always end up AWOL when
They get mixed up with me
View Carré HooDoo VooDoo
“bay rum, verbena essence
and jack honeysuckle”
—Ishmael Reed,
Mumbo Jumbo
I was having these rather—
Annoying nightly visitations
Jes Grew kept cumming
Mumbo Jumbo jizzwads!!!
Kathedral of Wetdreams—
New Orleans nocturnal emissions
All the way from Port-au-Prince
Obtuse snouts, sausage lips!!!
PaPa La Bas male-order pigs—
Big Easy Root business and
A big sac of retarded hustlers
Depravedly possessing me!!!
I wasn’t Xenophobic—
I always remembered to
Feed the Loas and like
Sway coquettish nightly…
Seven Inches
“Thinking about
him today”
—Robert Earl Penn
“Seven,” Milking
Black Bull
Even now all these years—
Since South Stadium LSU
If you hadn’t asked me
For a much-needed BJ…
Now fiftyish, divorced—
You send me a letter
Wanting to get together
Again like old times
What a heartbreak tho—
Knowing we’ve both changed
I was so queer for you
All the stars fell to earth
If those dormitory dayz—
And long hot humid nights
Could only be that way
Again but why even try?
Bad Boyz from Gretna
“I used to have sex
with my sister’s boyfriends”
—Winston James, “The Lost
Boy,” Milking Black Bull
I got them off—
Or rather they got me
To suck them off when my
Sister played hard to get
She didn’t put out—
But they got hot & bothered
And took it out on me
Down on my knees
A kid brother was okay—
With them because they
Were hard-up for sex
My mouth a tight pussy
All I knew was that—
The way they grabbed
My hair & pulled it hard
Was pure male magic
Spilling moons & stars—
Their urgent hearts like
The levee flooding and
The river running free
They even called me—
“Oh, Dizziona Oh JaQuizza!”
Giving it all away to me
Dinge jizzy manhood!!!
Zeppo the Spaz Trick
“He was half-Negro,
half Italian, and palsied”
—Walter Mosely,
Devil in a Blue Dress
Zeppo this young kid—
Skinny, knotted-up like
A minister when the
Lord gets into them…
Shaking & writhing—
All kinds of looks on
His face doing drag
During Mardi Gras
“R-r-real n-n-nice!”—
He’d stutter in bed
“S-s-s-so f-f-fu-fucking
N-n-n-ni-nice, man!!!”
Sometimes words—
Came easy to him
Other times he couldn’t
Finish a sentence…
But I didn’t have—
Any problems swallowing
His spastic 10” wad
“N-n-ni-nice m-m-man!!!”
Rough Trade
“Loving me is
your worst fear”
—Alden Reimonenq
“The Trade Turns,”
Milking the Black Bull
His dirty fingernails—
Layers of dingy clothes
Albino skin & rankness
Smoky liquored breath
Cheap and easy—
Vieux Carré cute hustler
How sensuous, glamorous
My Big Easy hustler
I kept looking into—
His vacant teenage eyes
Just Trash they said
Cheap Thrills Discount
It cost me lots more—
Than just money though
A whole year of stained
Unmade beds & rubbers
Street trade knows—
He knew too much about me
My dinge queen weaknesses
Unnamed, unconfessed…
Man Child
“for the embattled
there is no place
that cannot be
home nor is”
—Audre Lorde,
“School Note,”
The Black Unicorn
His lesbian parents—
His mother black which
Set him up for getting
Bullied at school
“Your mom’s Lesbos—
Plus she’s Black” would
Send him home crying
Not wanting to fight
I took him in my lap—
And told him I used to
Be afraid when I was
A kid once long ago
Back like when I was—
Young like him and
Going to school with
All the bad bullies
He looked at me—
Surprised I understood
And that I wasn’t
Disappointed in him
The thing is to—
Not destroy the fearful
Man-child by blaming
Him for weakness
But to show him—
The corruption of
Power that’s always
Been an age-old thing
And how to—
Handle it being both
Wise and afraid but
Not mean & butchy
__________________
Big Easy
Vieux Carré
Not a Pot to Piss In
Lounge Lizard
Vieux Carré HooDoo Voodoo
Seven Inches
Bad Boyz from Gretna
Zeppo the Spaz
Rough Trade
Man Child
________________
Big Easy
“human freedom,
its rare and its
elusiveness...”
—Toni Morrison,
Playing in the Dark:
Whiteness and the
Literary Imagination
Sometimes it’s easy—
To give up being so
Copasetic & blue for the
Deep South thing
Black nights and—
Gay rights for me
And my Dinge Whitey
Literary imagination
Meanwhile Katrina—
Still haunts me with
Its flooded ruins and
Levee lowland exiles
With forty percent of—
Poor black Southerners
Still stuck in diaspora
Stinking trailers
You can still smell it—
The Big Easy rotting
Decaying Deep South
My Decadent Other
Vieux Carré
“Beckon to big
Black bucks—
Life guards
On de sho!!!”
—Ishmael Reed,
“Harlem Tom Toms,”
Mumbo Jumbo
O Vieux Carré great Negro sea—
Black writers swim like me
In your sad-eyed deep waters
Engulf me, watery Vieux Carré!!!
Summon the levee floods—
Send them back to whitey hell
Torpedo Katrina the Bitch
Sink her cruel Titanic tits!!!
Dreadful Hurricane Whore—
Mississippi Mistress of Ruin
Drowning Old Folks in Attics
Capsized Big Easy Gone Dayz!!!
Catfish whiskers awake!!!—
Pelicans fly back from the gulf
Demon-headed Zoot-suited
Carpet baggers go home…
Not a Pot to Piss In
“When I was young
and didn’t have a
pot to piss in”
—Andrei Codrescu,
“Not a Pot to Piss In,”
The Muse Is Always Half-
Dressed in New Orleans
It’s a lot more fun—
Being an Exquisite Corpse
Smoking pot rather than
Just pissing in one
Older & wiser—
Now that I’ve blown it
So much for Delphi and
The Nude Delta Muse
My decadent Southern—
Imagination a cornucopia
Copasetic with Rimbaud
Sitting in his Crapper
Lounge Lizard
“He isn’t one of those
Drugstore cowboys
Or creepers”
—Ishmael Reed,
Mumbo Jumbo
I wear a black hat—
With a snakeskin headband
With black scarabs and a
Trench-coat to my ankles
I wear shiny black boots—
Blunt-toed Civil War style
And a chartreuse vest with
Dead black orchid designs
I have a way with women—
And the boyz at Lafitte’s
I’m a Lizard Lounge man
A black Jesus cocksucker
I gets the hots for—
Young naïve whitey sailor boyz
They always end up AWOL when
They get mixed up with me
View Carré HooDoo VooDoo
“bay rum, verbena essence
and jack honeysuckle”
—Ishmael Reed,
Mumbo Jumbo
I was having these rather—
Annoying nightly visitations
Jes Grew kept cumming
Mumbo Jumbo jizzwads!!!
Kathedral of Wetdreams—
New Orleans nocturnal emissions
All the way from Port-au-Prince
Obtuse snouts, sausage lips!!!
PaPa La Bas male-order pigs—
Big Easy Root business and
A big sac of retarded hustlers
Depravedly possessing me!!!
I wasn’t Xenophobic—
I always remembered to
Feed the Loas and like
Sway coquettish nightly…
Seven Inches
“Thinking about
him today”
—Robert Earl Penn
“Seven,” Milking
Black Bull
Even now all these years—
Since South Stadium LSU
If you hadn’t asked me
For a much-needed BJ…
Now fiftyish, divorced—
You send me a letter
Wanting to get together
Again like old times
What a heartbreak tho—
Knowing we’ve both changed
I was so queer for you
All the stars fell to earth
If those dormitory dayz—
And long hot humid nights
Could only be that way
Again but why even try?
Bad Boyz from Gretna
“I used to have sex
with my sister’s boyfriends”
—Winston James, “The Lost
Boy,” Milking Black Bull
I got them off—
Or rather they got me
To suck them off when my
Sister played hard to get
She didn’t put out—
But they got hot & bothered
And took it out on me
Down on my knees
A kid brother was okay—
With them because they
Were hard-up for sex
My mouth a tight pussy
All I knew was that—
The way they grabbed
My hair & pulled it hard
Was pure male magic
Spilling moons & stars—
Their urgent hearts like
The levee flooding and
The river running free
They even called me—
“Oh, Dizziona Oh JaQuizza!”
Giving it all away to me
Dinge jizzy manhood!!!
Zeppo the Spaz Trick
“He was half-Negro,
half Italian, and palsied”
—Walter Mosely,
Devil in a Blue Dress
Zeppo this young kid—
Skinny, knotted-up like
A minister when the
Lord gets into them…
Shaking & writhing—
All kinds of looks on
His face doing drag
During Mardi Gras
“R-r-real n-n-nice!”—
He’d stutter in bed
“S-s-s-so f-f-fu-fucking
N-n-n-ni-nice, man!!!”
Sometimes words—
Came easy to him
Other times he couldn’t
Finish a sentence…
But I didn’t have—
Any problems swallowing
His spastic 10” wad
“N-n-ni-nice m-m-man!!!”
Rough Trade
“Loving me is
your worst fear”
—Alden Reimonenq
“The Trade Turns,”
Milking the Black Bull
His dirty fingernails—
Layers of dingy clothes
Albino skin & rankness
Smoky liquored breath
Cheap and easy—
Vieux Carré cute hustler
How sensuous, glamorous
My Big Easy hustler
I kept looking into—
His vacant teenage eyes
Just Trash they said
Cheap Thrills Discount
It cost me lots more—
Than just money though
A whole year of stained
Unmade beds & rubbers
Street trade knows—
He knew too much about me
My dinge queen weaknesses
Unnamed, unconfessed…
Man Child
“for the embattled
there is no place
that cannot be
home nor is”
—Audre Lorde,
“School Note,”
The Black Unicorn
His lesbian parents—
His mother black which
Set him up for getting
Bullied at school
“Your mom’s Lesbos—
Plus she’s Black” would
Send him home crying
Not wanting to fight
I took him in my lap—
And told him I used to
Be afraid when I was
A kid once long ago
Back like when I was—
Young like him and
Going to school with
All the bad bullies
He looked at me—
Surprised I understood
And that I wasn’t
Disappointed in him
The thing is to—
Not destroy the fearful
Man-child by blaming
Him for weakness
But to show him—
The corruption of
Power that’s always
Been an age-old thing
And how to—
Handle it being both
Wise and afraid but
Not mean & butchy
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