1409 Constance
Street
Tablets in our laps creak in the Age
Of Information, from our sofa’d tours
Hallelujah, dreams, blinds, doors
We might have breathed behind
Type 1409 Constance Street, New Orleans
To Street View where you could have been
Hallelujah, hunched on that parched stool
With your fingers dripping from the sun
How she holds them calm in time
On the stoop, where you aren’t held
Hallelujah, her purse full of gold, secrets
Out of cat’s purr on Constance Street
Does the child at 1406 wonder
As she rides her bumpy trike
Hallelujah, I am saved from this
Or what lives behind door 1417?
Why would we switch places with
Walls whose stuffing is awry?
Hallelujah, our bricks lie tucked
Beneath, our stuffing tight inside
What stoop we do not dwell upon!
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
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