New Orleans Jazz

inspired by Langston Hughes

How delectable this nook sat,

away from the light, thriving

at night. Neon strobes

with no worry of Job, served

splashes of cranberry

and white with cherry.

Never do we grow weary

of that thrill, that note,

as it grabs a hold and chokes

the soul. Blues, no natural color,

sings and rings the air till it brings

the soiree eyes to squalor.

That wretched gold

lustfully danced with cold

inhibitions, never growing old.

Euphoria dosed

our veins with brass

needles, a refuge at last,

in the New Orleans night.