I am trying to write a long poem entitled “Murder Ballads” on the subject of rampant murder in New Olreans, and I’m stuck on trying to finish this section. (Each section except the opening and close deals with a specific murder case in the city). I am struggling to write a close to this that I could convincingly read. My first inclination is to the typical hysterics of a mother who has just learned her child is dead, a scene which people in New Orleans are sadly to well acquaitned with from the evening news (which try not to watch). However, I am not a Spoken Word sort of person and cannot see myself reading such lines the way some other local poets could.
One pre-reader friend suggested the mother is the sort who would not have an hysterical breakdown but would instead be “one of those queens who will shut the door, put on her crown and go to church.” I can almost see her in a pillbox hat with a veil stepping down her stoop to walk to services but I also hear her wailing in the street.
So, suggest some final lines, or at least how to write “MyBabyMyBabyMyBabyMyBaby” in a way that is believeable and readable.
III. Chanel
Who’s that at the door
child? What old friend?
From where?
I ain’t seen him
in church in that
Yankees cap
And those nasty pants
hanging down like that.
He looks like trouble.
It’s sure is late &
no Christian child
should be going out
on St. Bernard Avenue
this time a night,
not with the likes of him.
A good girl
like her should have
more sense than that.
You got to watch
the company you keep
out on these streets.
Listen to those sirens.
That’s the devil’s laugh
at all the evil on the prowl.
Where is that girl?
Lord, she’s gonna be
the death of me yet.
There she is, at the door.
Fool went out &
forgot her key again.
The police? What do
they want? What you mean
does she live here?
So, help me out: suggest some final lines.
