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Books by Lee
Meitzen Grue:
Goodbye Silver, Silver Cloud In the Sweet Balance of the
Flesh French Quarter Poems
Three Poets in New Orleans * *
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Introduction
French Quarter Poems
By Lee Meitzen Grue
Where is the French Quarter of the poems?
Geographically, it is the area of New Orleans, bounded by Canal St. and
Esplanade, North Rampart and the River; it is contained on a map, a
place referred to by boundaries. There is no gradual sliding into the
Quarter, you go there to find something you cannot find elsewhere.
But what is it you visit? A collection of old
buildings, a street of strip shows and barkers, fine restaurants,
peeling plaster and garbage in the streets? There must be something
more. It is a mystique, an ambiance as indefinable as a scent you once
smelled and long to smell again. There is a feeling of leisure
that creeps into your bones with the damp; the luxury of "don't
have to get up in the morning," a slow sensuality that leaves you
in bed longing for more of something good.
For Quarterites it is the great love affair.
Light and music pour from doorways into the street,
here the carnival and there the quiet of candlelight. A celebration of
flesh, and an acknowledgement of the spirit.
The faces of the buildings are constantly being
repainted. They are ladies past middle-age, settled into their flesh,
who must constantly repair the small bits of their maquillage that flake
away. The gas lights are kind to these ladies of a certain age, still
bright in their layers of paint.
The faces of people, too, seem more vivid here. A
trick of Southern light, perhaps, the sun up when it should be set or
after a rain. People walk in crowds wearing their visible differences
revealed as children reveal themselves to a tolerable mother who does
not reject or punish, but smiles indulgently. It is when they go beyond
her limits that they must comb their hair, quiet their clothes, and
drink their spirits in closets.
If a place is mentioned in this book that you find in
a guide book, remember it is not as represented there. These are vivid
recollections of one time; poems as personal as the prints of my
fingers.
Source:
French Quarter Poems
(1979) Long Measure Press * * * * *
update 8 July 2008 |
