Esplanade Avenue

Mid morning Saturday. Begin behind the restaurant. In a block of unremarkable houses, on a porch in the sun. From there: The movieset village bustle of Bayou St. John The complicated shadows of winter oak trees shimmering The crowd lingering, laughing at Tastee The cigarillo smokers trailing clouds The bus …

Upon Reflection

You can’t really say you’ve lived in New Orleans until you’ve seen yourself through the haze of a bathroom mirror, drunk at 2 am, tired, sick, and lonely, but still completely in love. “As long as I keep drinking” you address your bloodshot eyes, “New Orleans will never die.”

For My Neighborhood

I wrote the passage below in 2007 in a city still profoundly shaken by Katrina. The upside to all the darkness of the times, both literal and figurative, was that the bright spots stood out that much brighter. I remember these bright spots, stores in oasis of light, candlelit bars …