The Forgotten /-/- Tennessee Street, Ninth Ward

The house without a roof. Dug out like an old face's pocked cheek. Grey water has filled in the open shell. A film of rainbow claims its surface.

The life inside the rainbow is a thousand eyeless creatures. Here was yearning. Here was hope. Here was a day like a kickstand, a rusty bike leaned against. There was my face in stubble,

left behind in the corner of a mirror. An eye looked there once and left a faint trace. The universe began another instant ago. And went. But in the floor

old nails with flat heads. From another time, without warning, a different way of building, different hammers. And old songs that went with the beating in.