Post-Katrina Mardi Gras Poem & Some Thoughts on the Holidays

Post-Katrina Mardi Gras

Katrina, huffy hurricane, howler, home wrecker,
how could New Orleans celebrate after the likes of you?

was it not your winds, but your rains that broke the levees?
left homes lopsided, lives lost or misplaced
in the wake of the flood?
how much more did you take away?

Lakes Ponchartrain and Borgne swelled and

spewed mighty waters as if from Neptune’s mouth,
south across the Ninth Ward, Arabi, Chalmette.
that God of the Sea was the one in our living rooms,

if he didn’t climb all the way up to the roof,

he at least was knocking at our door.

“But not having Mardi Gras in New Orleans
would be like not having Christmas,” some say,
while carnival floats awaiting next year’s celebration,
were “floating” the streets after levees gave way.

“Fat Tuesday” had grown so slim,
you could count its bones,
could New Orleans ever gain back
what Katrina had stolen away?

but somehow trumpets sounded, drums pounded,

whistles blew, maracas shook in anticipation,
and NOLA pushed Mardi Gras plans ahead
taking pride in its annual February vacation,

as exuberant, gaudy and giddy as it seemed,

to forget past troubles, take new time to dream.

could it happen between building and tearing down,

between devastation and renovation,
with people displaced all over the place?
could it happen among those on their way back,

and those who still had a long way to go?

it happened.

down St. Charles Avenue and Canal Street,

crowds applauded krewes on floats
with fewer members, lost to Katrina,
wildly caught “throws” of bead necklaces

and flashy doubloons that showered down,

cheered marching high school bands
from flooded-out high schools,

caught up as ever in the annual whirlwind
of lavish masks, hats, and costumes,
profuse confetti and striped umbrellas
up and down so many noise-filled streets,

while other streets stood silent amidst collapsed roofs, overturned cars,

roadways strew with muddy shoes, furniture and stuffed toys,
Ash Wednesday come early.

much disappeared,

much had washed away,
but the Crescent City felt mighty pretty
when Mardi Gras kept its day.

laissez les bon temps roulez
##

This poem originally appeared in a shorter form in Midnight Circus: Holidays issue from EAB Publishing 2014.
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Post-Katrina Mardi Gras Poem & Some Thoughts on the Holidays