Down south, you get used to the wait. Waiting
on the funeral procession to pass before
getting back on the road. Waiting
on harvest season, on the Opry
to reinstate Hank, on the bank
to take the farm. Waiting at the Superdome
for Katrina’s black water to cede and the clear
bottled water to arrive – that took a bit.
Seemed those folks had to sit a spell before
anybody found time to hurry.
Understand this, you learn a kinda of
resolve when you wooden spoon stir
a roux for an hour. The southern
summer requires a pace
of patience that must be embraced
if you wanna glide through August’s
heat and mosquitos. So, those folks,
the dirty ones you saw on television, they
just sat there and did what we do best
down here — wait.
*The title is a line from infamous Louisiana politician Huey P. Long’s 1928 gubernatorial campaign speech in which he references a poem by Longfellow while standing beneath the “Evangeline Oak”