~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                           Desire Street
                            April, 1996


                      cyberspace chapbook of

                    The New Orleans Poetry Forum
                          established 1971


                   Desire, Cemeteries, Elysium


     Listserv:      [email protected]

        Email:    Robert Menuet, Publisher
                  [email protected]

         Mail:    Andrea S. Gereighty, President
                  New Orleans Poetry Forum
                  257 Bonnabel Blvd.
                  Metairie, La 70005

         Programmer:   Kevin R. Johnson

         Copyright 1996, The New Orleans Poety Forum
                   (6 poems for March, 1996)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Contents:

Breathing Room
  by Cedelas Hall
Charlston
  by Christian Champagne
B.E.P.
  by Kerry Poree
Bloodgoddess
  by kevin R. johnson
Semana Santa
  by Andrea Saunders Gereighty
Unfinished Business
  by Barbara Lamont


--------------------------------------------
Breathing Room

   by Cedelas Hall


She stands on tiptoe
stretches for
her sanity on the
top shelf thinks maybe
his
is there too
pushed way back close
to the wall blue
with mildew never
ending emphysema.

She grabs the box from its
hiding place relieved the
contents are safe dusts it
off with a road trip
to Logansport.

She drives intent
on the mission.
Beside her he puffs life
sustaining mist from
a bronchiolator powered
by the cigarette lighter.


--------------------------------------------
Charleston

  by Christian Champagne


My gentility always
gets in the way.
This is all I could think of
Once I was back in Charleston.
I found myself
apologizing to cans of soup
As I searched for
Miss Shirley's cream of mushroom,
But when I excused myself
to each page of the Sporting News
As I rifled through the pages
In a futile search for
news on Stump Mitchell,
Well, I had to sit down and pause.
A tasteful pause, mind you.
My affliction was
what worried me most.
Sure I had been to
graduate school in the north,
But I could never
shake this southern thing.
Or was it a Charleston thing?
Lee, Miss Caroline's oldest boy,
had told me so long ago
That Charleston had
invented the south,
And oh, how I believed him.
It had gotten to the point
that I had to eat
the business section
of the New York Times
with my she-crab soup
Not to be irretrievably
lost in my Charlestonian prison.
Don't get me wrong,
I was proud to be from Charleston.
But it was an
overpowering thing sometimes.
During one such pause
when the Church of England
didn't have the best of me
I ran into Sath,
an old chum from
my days at the Citadel.
I let him take
the active role
in the conversation.
Rambling on he painted
such vivid pictures
with his rhetoric.
An indigo John Calhoun here
a rendition of John Locke
inspired civic planning
cooked down in a rice dish
that no Upcountryman
worth his blue washcloths
would touch there.
Sath was a mutant
lowcountryman at that.
He went to the right schools
Would rather be discovered
looking up a girl's dress
at a cotillion than ever
be caught with his
northside manners down
Gawking at Miss Tillie's
Venetian tea set.
Then he would switch
gears and betray his kind
by becoming the most
feared house collector of his time.
We ended up that afternoon
by having a leisurely dinner,
And if it's one thing
we know how to do,
it's be at our professional leisure.
Once tried to start a leisure league,
Until we found out
that lounging in the later half
of the twentieth century
could wear a man out
Before his all cotton shirt.
It turned into a long night.
Sath and I, two sons of Charleston
Were in a way celebrating ourselves
as we drank rum
late into a Sumterless night.
Then it happened.
Some Yankee cads
here on a ruching convention
started to Charleston.
Sath and I rose
to the occasion
and defense of our birth right.
Sath was an expert
with fanlight and pilasters.
The cads from
snow country retaliated
with tickertape and tire irons.
They were no match.
We had the home field advantage.
Satisfied as we
triumphantly left the bar
I bid Sath a most cordial
and manner infested goodbye,
And then I drove by Heyworth House.
I thought of my very own identity.
Not the one etched
by outsiders of my southern heart.
But a real American reveling
in the ironclad
beliefs of civilization.
It had been built here,
and it was in me.
I slept well that night
The warm hug of the Atlantic breeze
lulled me to sleep,
and I dreamed of
camellias and zoning ordinances.
I thanked the Devil
who wore white planters' clothes,
And I complimented
my blue jeans
both verbally and physically.
The next night
I tried to teach a parrot
how to say "Dubose Heyward",
And I cruised Church Street,
not so much to see it
As for it to see me.
I was original and I was found.


--------------------------------------------
B.E.P.

  by Kerry Poree


      DONT'CHA BE TOUCHIN'
     MY BAD ENGLISH POEMS.
   THAT AIN'T FOR YOU TO DO.
       DON'T UNCOUPLE ME
      FROM FOLKLORE , YOU!
       DON'T EXCHANGE MY
  BAD ENGLISH FOR LINGUISTICS.
    I SAID WHAT I  MEANT TO.
  DON'T ERASE MY LOCAL IDIOM
            FOR
  THE NATIONAL STANDARD GUIDE.
    YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYIN'?
           GOOD!
      NOW SMILE ME A BIG
       LOCAL TYPE SMILE,
    THREE GENERATIONS WIDE.



--------------------------------------------
BLOODGODDESS

  by kevin R. johnson


your blood is rain carved from the

sky it rusts knives into spoons is

a floodmusic for the moon incubating

in water on the window beneath your

whispers frantic petals urge the wind

through another delirium tasting my

fingers I remember the language of

red the chant of raw sweet life





--------------------------------------------
Semana Santa

  by Andrea Saunders Gereighty


You seduce me, Amazon, with brown, moist beauty
Lush tree dresses and leafy kisses
The sky beckons blue
Hides the sun with puffed clouds.

Cruelty is your real game once I am yours.
The sun escapes, does its best to parch me.
Thirst quickens; the sun intensifies its desire.
Piranha and caimen glide and gobble
In the sweet deceit of your waters.

Death hides in the rainforest.
Mushrooms, hot pink.
Fire sears the body when the "twenty-four"
Strike
Army ant bites that burn twenty-four hours.
Rocks in your river hide
Wait to split seams
Spill the skiff and life.
Bottom, up-close, water low
To trick, sunder the outboard:  Growl fish
Loom in our faces that blister from sun and flies.

Blue-headed parrots mock us
Tributaries sneak in, curve like caimen
Palms aloft, in honor of this Sunday.
Mercy:  You show none, Amazon
To the children of the Yanomami.
They sit, liquid-eyed, beside the boat
Five in all.
I produce chicken, chicklets, crackers
To the girls.
Amazon, you have not swallowed us
Our boat, or some small measure of mercy.



--------------------------------------------
Unfinished Business

  by Barbara Lamont


She died
on a perfect Spring day
white lilac shoots pushing through
as she lay in my arms
and ceased to breathe.

In the kitchen
the children played a tinkly tune
Oprah on the TV, fat again,
led her crowd on to greater truths.

The hole in the screen door
began to whistle softly
to mark the silence.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE POETS OF DESIRE STREET


    Christian Champagne spent many years as God's understudy
and hasnow decided to go into business for himself since realizing
that this particular God spells his name with two "D's" and is not a
diety but an elf who raises termites hoping to make lace from their
pelts.  Christian lives a quiet life on an adjective farm.


    Andrea Saunders Gereighty owns and manages New Orleans
Field Services Associates, a public opinion polls business and is
currently the president of the New Orleans Poetry Forum. Her
poetry has appeared in many journals, as well as in her book,
ILLUSIONS AND OTHER REALITIES.


    Cedelas Hall is from Brookhaven, Mississippi.  Her chapbook
Before They Paved the Road recounts her experiences in that
state. A writer/actress, she appeared as "M'Lynn" in "Steel
Magnolias" at LePetit Theatre du Vieux Carre.


    Kevin Johnson, Piscean, enjoys Tequila under the stars and
writes  about the physiology of nothingness.


    Barbara Lamont writes about fear.


    Kerry Poree is an electrician from New Orleans.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ABOUT THE NEW ORLEANS POETRY FORUM


    The New Orleans Poetry Forum, a non-profit organization, was
founded in 1971 to provide a structure for organized readings and
workshops.  Poets meet weekly in a pleasant atmosphere to
critique works presented for the purpose of improving the writing
skills of the presenters.  From its inception, the Forum has
sponsored public readings, guest teaching in local schools, and
poetry workshops in prisons. For many  years the Forum
sponsored the publication of the New Laurel Review, underwritten
by foundation and government grants.

    Meetings are open to the public, and guest presenters are
welcome.  The meetings generally average ten to 15 participants,
with a core of regulars.  A format is followed which assures
support  for what is good in each poem, as well as suggestions
for improvement. In many  cases it is possible to trace a poet's
developing skill from works presented over time.  The group is
varied in age ranges, ethnic and cultural background, and styles
of writing and experience levels of participants.  This diversity
provides a continuing liveliness and energy in each workshop
session.

    Many current and past participants are  published poets and
experienced readers at universities and coffeehouses  worldwide.
One member, Yusef Komunyakaa, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize
for Poetry for 1994.  Members have won other distinguished
prizes and have taken advanced degrees in creative writing at
local and national universities.

   Beginning in 1995, The New Orleans Poetry Forum has
published  a monthly electronic magazine, Desire Street, for
distribution on the Internet and computer bulletin boards.  It is
believed that Desire Street is  the first e-zine published by an
established group of poets.  Our cyberspace chapbook contains
poems that have been presented at the weekly workshop
meetings, All poems presented at Forum meetings may be
published in their original form unless permisssion is specifically
withheld by the poet. Revisions are accepted until the publication
deadline of Desire Street. Publication is in both message and file
formats in various locations in cyberspace.

    Workshops are held every Wednesday from 8:00 PM until
10:30 at the Broadmoor Branch of the New Orleans Public
Library,  4300 South Broad, at Napoleon.  Annual dues of $10.00
include admission to Forum events and a one-year subscription to
the Forum newsletter, Lend Us An Ear.  To present, contact us
for details and bring 15 copies of your poem to the workshop.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
COPYRIGHT NOTICE

    Desire Street, April,,1996  � 1996, The New Orleans Poetry
Forum. 6 poems for April, 1996.  Message format:  11
messages for April, 1996.  Various file formats.

Desire Street is a monthly electronic publication of the New
Orleans Poetry Forum. All poems published have been presented
at weekly meetings of the New Orleans Poetry Forum by
members of the Forum.

    The New Orleans Poetry Forum encourages widespread
electronic reproduction and distribution of its monthly magazine
without cost, subject to the few limitations described below.  A
request is made to electronic publishers and bulletin board
system operators that  they notify us by email when the
publication is converted to executable, text, or compressed file
formats, or otherwise stored for retrieval and download.  This is
not a requirement for publication, but we would like to know who is
reading us and where we are being distributed. Email:
[email protected] (Robert Menuet). We also publish this
magazine in various file formats and in several locations in
cyberspace.

   Copyright of individual poems is owned by the writer of each
poem. In addition, the monthly edition of  Desire Street is
copyright by the New Orleans Poetry Forum.  Individual copyright
owners and the New Orleans Poetry Forum hereby permit the
reproduction of this publication subject to the following limitations:


   The entire monthly edition, consisting of the number of
poems and/or messages stated above  for the current month, also
shown above, may be reproduced electronically in either message
or file format  for distribution by computer bulletin boards, file
transfer protocol, other methods of file transfer, and in public
conferences and newsgroups. The entire monthly edition may be
converted to executable, text,  or compressed file formats, and
from one file format to another, for the purpose of distribution.
Reproduction of this publication must  be whole and intact,
including this notice, the masthead, table of  contents, and other
parts as originally published.   Portions (i.e., individual poems)
of this edition may not be excerpted and reproduced except
for the  personal use of an individual.


   Individual poems may be reproduced electronically only by
express paper-written permission of the author(s). To obtain
express permission, contact the publisher for details.  Neither
Desire Street nor the individual poems may be reproduced on
CD-ROM without the express permission of The New Orleans
Poetry Forum and the individual copyright owners. Email
[email protected] (Robert Menuet) for details.


   Hardcopy printouts are permitted for the personal use of a
single individual.   Distribution of hardcopy printouts will be
permitted for educational purposes only, by express permission of
the publisher; such distribution must be of the entire contents of
the edition in question of Desire Street.  This publication may not
be sold in either hardcopy or electronic forms without the express
paper-written permission of  the copyright owners.

FIN *********************************************** FIN