Time Ceases in the South

Silently sitting in the familiar waters of reminiscence 

With a compadre of mine, and we could feel the shifting of time

Sandy hands clutching styrofoam cups,

 irregular bacteria gurgles inside

Our bodies taking space in a terminal, 

Burnt coffee washed over our tongues as we played hindsight, 

Legend of the city carries itself on the backs of its hodgepodge of artists

Sent here with cultural aspiration, we plunged into the mutated coastal marsh

We roamed in the froth of sea containing all things powdered sugar and fried fish of cat

Silently daydreaming, with

Absinthe tinged rim of glass, we awaited the spirit to inhabit us wearing veil and hat

Rolling our sleeves and pants, we waded through the city 

Sipping from its geyser of spirits

Enveloping the energy of the jazz girl with orange bandana

The color craze! 

Mermaid yellow dressed men sweating, yelling, piercing the night

Pollo Hermanos providing provisions, a vagrant with his heart of fools gold 

Snacking on the pink wafer delight, walking with a belly full of delicatessen 

East towards Frenchman, petting the dusty dog of old

Frosted Kings Cake awaited us in the lobby,

Out of the taxi we rushed out from under the rain

Thinking of Degas, we proof read our minds 

Pushed passed the crowd and waited in line

Planted our eyes on a Charlie Chaplin look-alike

He played with a deep blow, mindless noodling and held a midwestern drawl

It was here in Chaplin’s club I felt the life-affirming detachment

From the shackled nature of his own (my own) inner monologue

To my amazement, I launched into whimsical travelers behavior with my compadre

We talked big picture ideas, friends and foes

Whittled down our our thoughts into spirit and ego 

We dissolved into the night,  

And I was free from the immutable shifting of time

Kyle O’Leary