Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 12/02/20


Petey took a bite off the moon
and spit it clean across the Causeway.
Followed it to the French Quarter,
wearing a yellow Camaro, shifting,
Uptown lights popping past.

Whitewalls and cassettes
and something cool around the edges
of the hot-cotton night

With Napoleon behind,
the Ninth Ward ahead,
cooling our white asses
in Joe’s Cozy Corner.
Our money’s green in Treme too.

The sidewalk, a hot trampoline
for bumbling, stumbling hardlegs.
Breathing gas and rubber,
and crepe myrtles down Esplanade

through the Marigny
where the ghosts moist and sticky
gauze our eyes.
“Pass that to the backseat”
“Turn up the music,
you fuckin loser”

Tossed the joint out the window,
and we all heard it
clinking like a tin-can,
ticking off the soft ripples
of Pontchartrain lake.

Made it back for breakfast
on the sun rise,
that come up hot and blinding
a fiery yolk of reproach.

©2020 LC Gutierrez All rights reserved.

LC Gutierrez is a product of many places in the South and the Caribbean, as well as writing and comparative literature programs at LSU and Tulane University (PhD). An erstwhile academic, he now writes, translates, edits and plays trombone in Madrid, Spain.

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