vieux carré

Fog strangles through in grisly rhyme
 twisting the realm
Leading echoes of sorrowful sound
 to saxophone pews
Brave sentiment, safe sentence in views
 and the tongs of remora to use
Lay me down at dawn
 and tell me the news of slate with this grade of refuse

Here in the Vieux Carre I will try
 to merge ingression with an edict of size
To let the leeway of time uphold the wayside
 as my obsession composes the prime
Here in the mud, askew from the shrine
 here lies a monument to mortal kind
where I sleep the day just to rise
 from heavens' coffin to the waiting night

Fog strangles through in grisly rhyme
 trailed closely by the guilty mob
Tagged white - so white - blinding white
 in mortal darkness screaming 'Give me light'
Here I feed, here I seed
Here you march in fear of what you believe
Here I reign, here I tame
Here you bleed
In the Vieux Carre, hear a saxophone play
 to the lithe and beautiful beat
See the fog obscure any trouble
 Hear the hunter enclose on a feast
Feel the moon shine through
 with light sped feet
Taste the drinking love
 of immortal peace
Know this half bread lie of trust
 as you fall sleep

Fog strangles through in grisly rhyme
 trailed close by the crowd outside
On the tavern wall is a sign
 not to fall behind
And black - so black is the passing hat
 collected minds in their babble and whine
Take what I know of love
 from my selfish crime
for the Vieux Carre breeds a sound
 of superstition not of jovial bounce
Of eternal nights come down
 to the present age
And in the Vieux Carre as I try
 to melt rendition with an audible sigh
I suspect what's left to decide

 is what to live for next