Got a Match? - Poem by Raymond A. Foss

Oh how to tell the tale
to spin the yarn, to pull you in
Bring you along, down memory road
to that night in April 1993.

Small town yankee
Eating my fill, drinking in
The Big Easy,
Day and this night.

Early flight back north, 6am
Too soon to leave, need to run back
Experience More

Paranoid of what might happen
Money clip, ID, and a pack of hotel matches
(marked with the room number), my only
companions, out into the night,
after a promise to be safe.

A cameraman in a foreign land,
without his camera.
Can you see me out there in the wild
Like Marlin Perkins’ assistant Jim.
What will he find out in the
jazz-dipped urban jungle.

Oh yes, the wild creatures of the night
Nocturnal denizens of the street
and the game rangers of the NOPD too
Walked, strutted, sauntered, or stumbled by

Propositions, male and female (or was she?)
made me laugh, under the officer’s gaze
Sound and noise and smell and taste
Marched on through the night toward closing

Jackson Square to Rampart and back
Light and shadow stalked
the thinning crowd
Until Beignets and chickory
called me to Café du Monde

4am, bag of beignets
and tray of six coffees in the other hand.
Trek through the dark
streets after last call.

Off in the distance, another figure in the
dark, the shadows
Bridging the space
Between us
Where oh where do I turn?

“Hey, buddy, got a match?”
Perfect.

8/7/04 18:36