VIEUX CARRE

Wed, 09/30/2015 - 22:27 -- Aerial

VIEUX CARRE

Emotionally I am lavender
There really is nothing green about me
I'm rather versed
Actually quite rehearsed
Often extremely terse
And the time or two I have been cursed
No I'm not talking about being sworn at
I'm talking about a voodoo witch
In New Orleans
Who stuck so many pins in
Her corn cob and straw doll
Made to look like me
I could have just as easily been
A toy porcupine
And the story goes...
She actually followed me to the barbershop
To gather locks of my hair
This voodoo vamp
Looked like a tramp
But surely she meant business
And I was it
All over a one night stand
With a man she thought grand
But also hers
It was a secret
That would never have been told
But the encounter was so satisfying
I left a note on his nightstand
With words I'd stolen from Shakespeare
"Take him and cut him out in little stars
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will come to love the night
And pay no worship to the garish Sun"
I regret not a moment
Nor a stroke
Not between he and I
And certainly not...
Of my pen
And my Shakespearean theft
Left behind on his nightstand
Where the Voodoo wench
Found it
And then set out to curse me
When his honesty
Burst her heart...
And he freely admitted
That though he was not gay
He certainly would consider it
If he could have it everyday
Just as he did the night before
Aerial's special way
Of course her voodoo
Did not work -
Quite the opposite in fact
He would get a pang for pleasure
That was beyond measure
And of course he knew where to find...
The treasure
And I let him open that chest
Upon each and every request
And he did enjoy my jewels
He always left
Black
Spent
Glistening
A flavor I'll never forget
I can remember well
The heat
That he would leave in my
Treasure chest
Sparkling brighter
Than all the other jewels
Priceless
Majestic
A real royal experience
I miss those days spent in the
Vieux Carre

Aerial 09/31/2015

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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