The baby inside me little knows or cares
About that monster churning up the Gulf;
He kicks and squirms as I grant myself one last
Peep at that pinwheel of cloud and water
Ah, New Orleans, I remember how I’d read
The Bible in that hotel room as a frightened child,
The sweltering heat of its oppressive July, the nudity on
Its billboards….
Then the swamp tour of the Audubon Park
The house restaurant with its Creole flair,
The ghost stories of the tortured slaves, risen again,
The sharks making circles in the waters of the aquarium
And all of that, the beignets and coffee, seem so close
As I watch the radar screen in relative safety
I wonder what kind of a world I’ve chosen to bring
Another child into, where such storms have been allowed
To magnify, multiply,
Hurricane Katrina
