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.
Odds and Lens 
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.
LikeLike