Please join us for a wonderful reading!
See excerpts from their work below.
From Cynthia Hogue’s When the Water Came: Evacuees of Hurricane Katrina
Excerpted From: Victoria Green, Mother of Four
If the lake was flooding the city,
we knew it’d never be the same.
CNN was showing people on houses.
This was not a strange neighborhood to me.
This was my neighborhood.
It’s where I went to school. Where
I shopped for groceries at Circle Food.
I got married at that church,
christened my children, buried my kin.
New Orleans is the cornerstone
for spirituality, the stomping grounds
for psychic ability. You don’t
get on the bus and go somewhere else.
It’s our culture. You’d have to be a citizen
of New Orleans to understand.
I was here a week and my mother passed.
She never had been sick.
I think any of us would trade
any charity we got to go back
to August 15, 2005 and warn all our family
that terrible storm would take everything away
from us. But we don’t
get those chances.
We get what we get.
Sam Truitt’s poem “Mobile”
mess=nest. that’s to not rely
“just the way it on words—these
happened to be”
a statistical reliability makeshifts—to
in gain of diversity blaze
450 BC no key
that made it work
out but shift came picture-
in the form of zero frame—what the eye
fragmented (mobile) falls on—to
Skin. Parchment. (thirst?)
or all that is describable is a workable system
you wave the first word & the whole thing
overwhelming the world