LET HER IN THROUGH CONSTANCE
A LETTER FROM THE NEW ORLEANS MUSES
This is a letter.
Light spilling into frame.
Rue. A demeanor. And an encounter.
The muses announce themselves
through Garden District streets.
City ghosts linger in past, present, and future
whispering in floral tongue
and whiffs of fried food.
I keep wondering…
Is “Let Her In Through Constance”
a thing?
The process of becoming,
one person,
with something to make.
LET HER IN THROUGH CONSTANCE
Star Jasmine, they smell so good.
Boarding fences,
climbing polls.
Are you open
to new
discoveries?
Are you
fair?
Wind tickles
mini white roses.
An iron fence
creaks open.
Pooled rain
glistening.
Shed the facade—
off a fallen palm.
What can be told,
that one doesn’t
already know?
Rain pelts off umbrella.
Oaks also provide cover.
Dark roots pull up.
Wrestling with
concrete,
accidentally–
inevitably.
We don't know,
what story is written
or writing itself.
Ya’ll say,
“It don’t matter
if the rain tries again.
Take the rest
of the day
off.”
Blue chipped chair
under a knobby
crepe myrtle.
Fried food
is the muse
& messes the muse.
[Tail wagging.]
“This is Rue.
He’s an old man.
Can’t see.
Can't hear.
He can eat though...
[Turns to Rue]
Pick up your poop. ”
The sun dashes through mist—
Tell me about fluorescence!
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the many beings helping with this project. Bill and Missy Dalton for their home and keen appreciation to the beauty and history of New Orleans. To dad for vespa trips to Mollys, City Park, and a many po’boy & thank you to the beloved city of New Orleans.
About the author
Colleen Elizabeth Jaggi is an artist
living in New England.