responsive-lightbox domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home/sundre5/ducts.sundresspublications.com/content/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6114Among us one has named himself the hero boatman After the Katrina paintings of Rolland Golden<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-129","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/129","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=129"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/129\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=129"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=129"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=129"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nOf every canvas: Somebody dreams of me when they painting. <\/em>
\nI hate to confess I’m more into their carrying on
\nThan the Katrina paintings of Rolland Golden.
\nHe paints to testify\u2014flood stain eternal smeared
\nOn shotgun houses, the color of a doomsday sunset,
\nBut what about us, his subjects, a cast of thousands
\nWith no speaking parts, and no names but the titles
\nHe assigns, like “Helicopter Hands?’ Not unlike Mardi Gras,
\nTheir shadowy reaches, their shouts and motions, all of it mute
\nto the man turning his back to walk inside and wait.
\nNext to me is someone’s date in a rabbit fur coat
\nAnd too much glitter for a grandma. She drones on,
\nBut I’m stuck on the fur coat that down here she wears
\nTwo times a year, tonight, tiny chill, being number one.
\nThat’s by my mama’s house. We used to eat there after church. <\/em>
\nMystery coat, I let myself wonder if she bought it
\nWith a FEMA check, though she could have packed it
\nIn garbage bags before heading to her shelter of last resort,
\nThe fur her one necessity besides Tijuana the cockatiel
\nAnd a box of Cheese-Its. I think she sees herself
\nAs the woman he’s got wading through the street
\nWith a suitcase balanced on her hairdo. God Bless.
\nHe calls her \u2018Headed for the Superdome,” and in the bag,
\nBulgy but invisible, all of her story, all of her wealth. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"