Louisiana Nightmare

a memory of Katrina

Eight

Frightened

Stretched across the tall oak bookcase

Used to hold my dad’s books

Encyclopedias, National Geographics,

A few Playboys hiding behind some large Bibles

They all were washed away

The shelves empty now

The wood a bit warped

Been easy to sleep

Water in the house makes a gentle sound

Big living room window broken

Can still see some of the street

 

Bodies, cars, boats floating by

Headless majorette clutches a baton

Policeman in uniform

A few deceased cats

Bizarre parade out of Dawn of the Dead

But this is real

It makes me sad

 

A few people floated in last night

A man

A woman

She was shy, floating face down

A boy a girl

If the three face up people were outside

They might have been watching the stars

But now it was just our ceiling

Which is peeling

Could have been a family

Made up a conversation with them about who they were,

Where they had been, where they were going

They didn’t look dead just peaceful

 

In the morning, gators came by for a snack

I couldn’t watch

I closed my eyes

The people didn’t put up much of a fight

Gators looked up at me but I was too high.

They snapped their mouths open and shut

 

Like they were saying We’ll be back�"you’re lunch

There were a few arms left

Guess they don’t taste as good to gators.

In the evening some looters with flashlights

Tried to take the television off the wall

It was full of water

They gave up.

They didn’t see me

Maybe they were ignoring me

 

Still have a few candy bars left and some bottles of water

Mom left them when she put me up on the bookcase

Was a good idea ‘cause I can’t swim

She went to look for Dad

She never came back

They all disappeared one by one

Even my brother and sister

They said they would return but they lied.

The world smells really bad

I’ve lost count of the days

Maybe I have been forgotten