Canal Street Streetcar
seems so romantic
harkens images of Brando
muscular white t shirt yelling
“Stella! Stella!”
and this glorified past era
and yet it’s crowded
slow as molasses
in desperate need of air conditioner
and shock absorbers
a slow romance slowly dying
as you pass Carrollton
you pass Jefferson Davis Boulevard
broken dreams; shattered illusions
we’ll make it to the Quarter
Bourbon Street never closes
even as romantic notions
are forcibly upended