New Toulouse

Photograph taken with a spirit camera, somewhere in New Toulouse Bayou

little swamp spirit
no catnip here, say the cats
why are you asking

—Gigi Lapin

My House on the Bayou

I try to keep a proper house, but the bayou encroaches;
The waters rise up, then draw back,
Climbing the house stilts like fire poles.
And in the morning, the dampness hovers about,
Warping the wood and coating the porch with dew.
I wake to the horn of a passing barge,
And the low croaking of the frogs in the cattails.
I cradle a warm mug of chicory and boiled milk,
And step from the kitchen out into the soft morning light;
The chickens at the step cluck and strut toward the cordgrass.
Across the river, a faint mist blurs the steeples of the city.
A soaring egret, white as a cloud, in a cloudless sky,
Glides to the treetops, carrying twigs for its nest.
But the laundry is barely washed and hung,
Before the heat begins to pour down from the furnace sun,
Frying the tin roof and parching the clapboards,
Till they creak, and curl, and crack.
So I scrape the blistered surfaces,
And paint them fresh—to keep a proper house.
When the chores are done, there are fish to catch,
And a bend along the creek, where the tupelo trees,
Arch out over a ramshackle wooden dock.
Kneeling on the weathered planks, I drop a line into the lazy stream,
To snare an unseen catfish or perch,
Watchful of the gators and copperheads.
Or there are books to read, and languid hours
To sip warm tea and fill the mind with delicious imaginings:
The snow-covered Himalayas, or the trends of Parisian fashion.
All while rocking on my porch!
The evenings always seem cooler;
As the light begins to fade, I curl onto the bench swing
And gaze out on the river, serenaded by a chorus of crickets.
Far away, from the sea, a buoy bell clangs.
The moon peers through the cypresses,
And its pale light ripples on the inky water.
The outline of the city melts into darkness,
For I am far from it now,
Far from its mad contentions and bubble vanities;
Here there are fewer illusions.
I may hope the creek won’t rise, or hope the winds won’t shred the roof,
But the bayou has its own plans;
It will do what it does, in its own time, for its own reasons.
And here, at the water’s edge, I know I am not the center of things,
Any more than the egret in its nest.
But as night falls on my house on the bayou,
I shut my eyes in calm joy and quiet thankfulness.

—Marnie Gras

Lei’s Cafe on the Bayou hosted a Prose & Poems event on October 25. Following a wonderful performance from singer-guitarist Joaquin Gustav, participants read poems from their favorite poets and also presented some amazing original poems.

After much consideration, the judges selected “My House on the Bayou” by Marnie Gras as the winner of the original poem competition.

The judges determined that there was a tie for second place between Silky Grimknot’s poem “Nightmare Night, Darkness Moon” and Maggie Hawksby’s “Loup-Garou (Werewolf).”

Lemon Bramblet is a wandering journalist with a nose for strong coffee and a fear of lake cows.

Poets and writers will soon compete for prizes at a literary and musical gathering on the bayou.

Lei’s Cafe on the Bayou hosts a poetry night on Saturday, October 25. The event opens with music by Joaquin Gustav at 4:00 PM SLT. Mr. Gustav is a talented guitarist, composer, and Avi Choice Award winner from Argentina. His diverse playlist includes jazz, tango, milonga, candomblé, and something called “rock music.”

Starting at 5:00 PM, Taloosters and friends present their favorite poems and short stories. Prizes will be awarded for the top two original works.

To register to perform a reading, send a note to Miss Lei Pari by October 23. Include your name, poem or short story title, the name of person who wrote it (you or the original author), and the text of the poem or short story.

Gigi Lapin is worried about the proximity of all those brains to a known zombie hotspot.

Today we present another installment of “Hot Spots,” our guide to musical venues in and around New Toulouse.

Dafthouse Brewery

Dafthouse Brewery is a colossal building not far from New Toulouse’s cemetery. Perhaps that explains why Dafthouse is the favorite haunt of a ghost, according to co-owners Miss Crumbles Idlemind and Miss Jeaniesing Trilling.

“Dafthouse is a defunct brewery. The lore tells us it was in trouble after a series of deaths chased workers away who believed that it was haunted, and it was finally abandoned after the very suspicious death of Monsieur Daft, its owner,” Miss Trilling explained as a slight chill in the air became quite apparent.

According to rumor, a malicious spirit roams the building and was the cause of the horrible events leading to its closing. But Miss Idlemind and Miss Trilling are determined to light the old brewery with warmth, laughter, music, and friendship.

Dafthouse Brewery has been in business for about three years. It first began in two ill-fated regions that sank back into the murky waters of the bayou, and now it is firmly established in the city of New Toulouse.

Live music is prominent at Dafthouse. “Our regular artist, VooDoo Shilton, plays a lot of jazz classics, and lingers in the realm of bossa nova, for our listening pleasure,” said Miss Jeanie. “Another artist, TJ Oanomochi, stops in to sing when she isn’t on tour with her RL work as a professional singer. She sings a fair amount of jazz but doesn’t limit herself and nods appreciation to good music of any genre. Our other guest artists of the past nine months most often play acoustic covers of classics, pop, and folk music.”

But more than music happens at the brewery. “Dafthouse has a haunting—with a voodoo charm, offered at limited times. You can chase the ghost around Dafthouse and hear her story,” Miss Jeanie said. “The main room’s second story is our dedicated art walk. We host a rotation of artists’ work that can be viewed and purchased there. We also have occasional activities such as poetry readings and reader’s theater.”

She added, “Dafthouse would love to start up an open mic!” Taloosters of all levels of talent who would be willing to take the stage for a moment should contact Miss Jeaniesing Trilling.

When asked whether a real-life club inspired the artful and enterprising duo of Trilling and Idlemind, Miss Jeanie explained, “The other way, perhaps! Crumbles Idlemind has a RL venture that is modeled, in part, after Dafthouse. She began a cooperative gallery near her RL home that boasts some of the fun bits of Dafthouse’s activities in a RL setting.”

And what does the future hold in store for Dafthouse Brewery?

“Crumbles and I are both RL busy at times,” said Miss Jeanie, “so we enjoy running a low-key sort of place that doesn’t demand constant hands-on. We hope to remain in New Toulouse, providing occasional diversions for friends and neighbors.”

Habana Jazz is a resident of New Toulouse and calls his mother every week.