Swinging in the Big Easy The neon looked like lipstick on the wet street the streetcar rattled and sang rattled and sang somewhere a trumpet and tuba sing sweetly there she was expectant not waiting heart full on Frenchmen Street she danced full of sazeracs the Jackson Square fortune tellers sip coffee laced with chicory eat beignets and tourists too near the Mississippi on the levee still she sits in the Spotted Cat eats okra at 2 on a Monday like Paris but not the humid scent of rain its kiss on pavement Copyright 2022 by Susan Notar
Bio:
Susan Notar has flown over Iraq wearing body armor and makes a mean beurre blanc sauce. She is a Pushcart prize nominated poet whose work has appeared in a number of publications including Artemis, Bourgeon, Burningword, Gyroscope, The Forgotten River, and Joys of the Table: An Anthology of Culinary Verse.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
You string together such rich, evocative, particular details, Susan, I was thinking how wonderful you make New Orleans sound (I’ve never been there) until I got to the line about fortune tellers eating the tourists. Mmh, maybe I don’t need to visit after all! I particularly like the ending and how it brings us back to that fine first line.
I love the way you paint the scene with all the rich details, Susan. I feel like I’m there.