YVONNE’S BAR

kids pass on pogo sticks the ripped screen door
of yvonne’s old bar there on the corner
two block off the avenue and there’s no oaks at all
and the houses are small and the houses are cut in two
and kids aint played with pogo sticks since before me or you existed

and there’s weeds in the bayou will pull a boy under
if he tries to go swimming or diving for treasure
and there’s boys in the street who will give you hard looks
they are trying to compete with the cops with the crooks
and yvonne is gone she passed on last december
and that bar has been empty for a fifth of a century

she got herself a job selling chicken think that’s gonna keep her alive?
she got three kids they want things they keep the t.v. turned high
she got her bit of hope for the future in a pretty room in her mind
one where she can open the shutter catch a little wind off the bayou
you can’t eat fried chicken every damn night
watch your baby girl turn into woman right before your eyes

people round here don’t know how to let go
of the things we held on to to keep us afloat
we got cars in our back yards we got roads in our ruts
and we love to run in them we’re in love with the rust
and there used to be a show here aplace for kids to go
before they put the highway where the oaks were cut the cities throat dear

and now kids pass on pogo sticks the ripped screen door
of yvonne’s old bar there on the corner
two block off the avenue and there’s no oaks at all
and the houses are small and the houses are cut in two

winter 98 New Orleans
© myshkin 1999