Monday, February 24, 2014

Magic Monday: City of The Dead

I've written about my Love before: the way she wooed me with her weird magic and broke my heart. This time last year, we were wandering in the damp spring of the French Quarter.  Though I loved all of NOLA's peeling paint, scaly windows,voodoo priestesses, wild actors and stray cats--

 it was St. Louis Cemetery Number One I loved best.

When walking through a city of the dead, a subtle hysteria takes over. You notice you're slowly sinking and that you too will succumb to the moss and flood water.

You entertain a mysticism when you accept that just like the soft limestone statues, a little wind and rain is all it takes to wash your hands and face away too.

There is an urgency in being startled by slabs of rock crumbling and breaking to bits on the side walk.  

Do it now, not later. Do it now. Do it now...

The heaps of trash and treasures are carefully assembled by fans, family, worshipers and drunks: prayers, apologies and plastic forks.

Will anyone leave lipstick on our graves?

I like to think so.

Do it now, Muffins.

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