the visitors

They stand staring

upper middle-aged in water shoes and cropped sweatpants.

Their faces red from sun and exertion as they climbed pale chicken legs up over the levee.

Doe-eyed from a three day tour, their heads swim with Spanish architecture, swollen streets puckered with potholes,

the lingering sounds of an unseen horn playing

wafting through the marijuana infused air

as they now take in the sight

of the waters collecting

past the strangled brush

to tell the others

about the city

which is fine to visit

but how can you really live there?

They take pictures and smile

stepping slowly back down to the street.

Perhaps a cocktail to go as they watch an automobile collide with a streetcar.

An elderly man stumbles out and vomits on the neutral ground.

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One thought on “the visitors

  1. Melia says:

    Beautiful! I can picture these people experiencing New Orleans as if it were a foreign country.

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