Odds and ends, odds and beginnings

This dwelling seemed practically ready to host oddsandlens, and it made me come back here, to make sure the virtual residence had all the letters still in place. The last post of this (very modestly productive) year had to honour the place – at the Southern tip of Louisiana – that was so generously offering hospitality: Dulac. These images reflect, I hope, the poignancy of the encounter between the beauty of the Southern light, or its colourful instantiations, and the sense of frailness, the struggle for survival at the boundary between earth and sea.

1 Comment

  1. Odds and ebbs
    It’s hard to make it flow
    Nowadays nothing much
    Wanders into my net I find
    My fill where I can, for instance:

    I do not WANT a gumbo recipe
    From the New York Times. I WANT
    A gumbo recipe from an old woman
    Named mawmaw Thibodeaux-Landry
    Who can bare-knuckle box an alligator
    While reciting the Holy Rosary
    In Cajun French.

    Take it, curbside pickup
    Ramshackle boarded up
    I was into no-touch service
    And social distancing
    Before there was even a word

    Yet the wise men of Houma
    Hell can’t keep their distance
    For I was Americana faded
    Trucker hats and tigers
    Before those were even a thing

    Cinder blocks, sheet metal
    Levees against the sea’s spittle
    At this point I’d settle
    For someone to make this place
    Just so-so again.

    Like

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