the sweet sticky ooze of post mardi gras

this is matt, surfing on a discarded ironing board on dumaine street in the french quarter. theres lots of abandoned household items on the street at this time, in this town.
mardi gras has oozed into post mardi gras. at midnight on tuesday night (ash wednesday morning) cops and patrol cars and horses and garbage trucks processed down bourbon street in a haze of flashing lights and sirens as the crowd roared in unison “we who are about to die salute you!” carnival officially flipped over into lent. the cops on horseback raised their riding crops as if they were elevating the host in high mass. the crowd loved it more than ever this year. the whole scene actually may have been almost as dramatic as im making it sound.

so many said to us “thank you… thank you!” they thanked us for coming. its wonderful to be thanked for just showing up.
the restaurants are still humming here, but now you can actually get a table for two by the window at 7pm. gloria and i have just come back from “snug harbor” a good place to eat. they have live music later in the evenings. i had crawfish étouffée over long grain rice and sampled gloria's blackened sea bass. i am overfull — sweetness and warmth still radiating from my stomach. as i walked down city sidewalks this sensation was combined with the scent of the angel’s trumpet, night blooming jasmine vine and sweet olive. these plants are in full bloom now throughout the city, confusing the air with their sweetness, raging with sticky pheromones, calling to all insects, “fuck, fuck me now!”
nothing out of the ordinary for this town.