a flood

water deep; algae green and slick

slime on the sidewalks

cars towed sitting in body shops

sheetrock, couches and beds curbside.

At its very worst, the flood scares

taunts

water senseless

running this way and that way

willy-nilly

ebbing and flowing again again again

people caught in the cross hairs of two pressure systems

in the atmosphere above

those in wheel chairs; where to put them?

children without schools

teachers with no dresses

servicemen, police, fire

gone all day every day

their families left to fend for themselves

hope a kind neighbor offers babysitting services

or a cup of tea and a talk.

City fathers and mothers argue

what sent the flood

God to the rescue

lack of commitment, resources and planning for years upon years.

It will not happen here, you know.

We are a proper city.

Most of us follow the law.

If we want to do crazy; we head east to NOLA

or to the beaches up and down the Gulf Coast.

Returning home, we face our responsibilities

squarely

we are Baton Rouge

red stickers

for all our quirks, prejudices and racism we

decided to live in the heat, bugs watch the bayous fill and

eat gumbo

together

can we do it now–together?

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