bein
mistaken
for some kind
of creole man that night not
really knowing what to make of the scene
and followin me home like that chicken was boilin
on top of the stove getting it all really fully seasoned
and pretty good spilling the cayenne spice and stuff
into the mixture kind of heated it up a bit
and caused all that smoke over the pot
but i once heard some one talkin about this
creolized language and how subordinates took over the major
language or something like that sounds like some kind of a weird mutiny
going on down in the kitchen all right and maybe that’s what this
is all about but really this ain’t no insurrection goin on
here for christ sake and this ain’t even louisiana or any
of those other bayou places with alligators floatin
around this is just my way of cookin up a bit
of a storm before the winter sets in
but what do you expect i guess
she can imagine whatever might be different
late on a sunday evening when you don’t have to bother
goin home anymore and hang around someone that seems to be
a little far out on what everyone wants to call the far side
or dark side or other side of what appears to be
your normal everyday
other side
anyways
i ain’t no cajun
and i ain’t no creole
and i sure as hell ain’t no
louisiana back water slug lickin
a wooden spoon clean in some boilin down town
back street restaurant off the main in new orleans
so pay attention missy and the next
time you get invited in try not to stay longer
than three days and try to remember
that this is just a soup pot
cook out and really
doesn’t have
anything
to do with native ancestry or anything like
what goes along with all that cross
cultural crap they’re always lyin
to you about down at queenspark
or any place else
uptown
for all that matter
Works Cited
- Keon, Wayne.
it ain’t exactly heaven.
Canadian Literature 144 (1995): 8-9. Print. (Link)
©