I Was Young & Creole in Louisiana

I ain't talkin' bout

Katrina

She was real cold

Sorry but she had to go...

I ain't talkin' bout deforestation

Ain't none of that here in my poem

Instead

I wanna talk about sweet New Orleans

Burning heat

Pretty French Quarter

Beignets at Cafe du Monde

& Gumbo from Grammie's pot

The best of everything

To be young & Creole 

In Louisiana is everything

The peace & joy of this land

It is so beautiful that it couldn't all be designed by man

Dancin' in the streets

Talkin' all kinds talk

Marching Bourbon Street

Kickin' the shoes off my feet

Watching the horses & buggies going by

For one second...just close your eyes

Listen to the solo tuba down the street of Canal

You know former slaves used to walk these streets

Please, somebody, give me a quarter so I can give it to the drummer who drums

And spin my umbrella to his beat

I know the music is loud, the heat is on fire, and the folks are watching

But I'm gonna dance down Toulouse Street until dirty becomes my feet

Gather my coins in Jackson Square right in front of the St. Louis Cathedral

Because this is my home, this is where my people are from, this is who we are...

We are the Creole colored people that you learned about

We walk the streets of Magazine and Royal

Our big beautiful house is on Esplanade Avenue & I dare you to meet me one night on Julia

Years before the Harlem Renaissance, my rich Afro-Creole literary tradition flourished & was established right here in Louisiana

Our words mean something here

Our voices are still heard

I desire to be nothing more or anything less than a colored Creole

And

I was reminded of very that while I was young & Creole in Louisiana