A New Orleans lullaby… April poetry month new poetry number thirteen.

A New Orleans lullaby…

I was station at Fort Hood for six years. I was the Dancing Coyote, always seeking laughter,

good drink and pretty ladies.

I Befriended a New York state gal. I like her. She was angry all the time and she loved books.

She was a pretty one with a cold heart and honest voice.

I told her. Amie, Amie. You need a better face, you need to go dancing and maybe, smile.

She laughed my words. She whispered Johnnie Coyote, you are more dog than coyote.

You want to see my real face? You are more foolish than I believed.

I told her. Mardi Gras is going on in New Orleans and the city can make the ugly face,

and ugly thoughts fade away. She laughed at my words and she told me.

I could use New Orleans. We could dress up and drink/dance till we cannot.

I told her I would like this.

We drove to New Orleans at noon. We arrived in the city, the city was alive.

Music being played everywhere and people dressed up in wild costumes

and singing/dancing in the streets.

We went to a shop and I became the Voodoo man and she became Marie Laveau.

She looked into the mirror and she hugged me. She gave me a little smile and

she told me. Lets drink and dance. Get nasty at three am and make believe we

are ancient lovers.

We roamed the taverns, the Jazz clubs and we danced in every parade we could find.

I told Amie. You are so beautiful, you are shining like the moon resting on the sea.

She laughed at my words and she whispered. Us New York gals know you Michigan

boys are dangerous. Please tell me a poem to make me believe. You adore me Johnnie.

I told her.

“My cold hearten woman, we play Russian roulette with love and

I do love the tattoos on your neck, I adore the tattoos on your long legs.

I want to see you nude, I want to know you wild.

I want my hands on your shapely hips and I want to see you release

your clothing slow and easy.

I want you barefoot and standing nude by the open windows.

I want the lights on and us.

Wild and free.”

Her eyes soften and she told me. Am I a stepping stone Johnnie? I don’t need the liar’s

prayer no-more. We have been friends for two years and I am thankful for New Orleans.

Do you love me Johnnie?

He brought her close and he whispered. Maybe we can create a New Orleans lullaby

where love can win. I do love you my angry gal.

She smiled sweetly and she told him. We need more whiskey, we need more music and

we need to show real face. Let’s find a Jazz club, dance close and maybe?

We can create a New Orleans lullaby..

Dancing Coyote