Acadian Blues

I’m a Cajun, a coon-ass, a bug-eating Bayou Wildman
and I have a great storied history
buried deep under
the filthy oil slick surface
of my swampy home.

I want to paint you a glorious portrait 
of a forgotten culture
but my Acadian Blood
Runs hot and red with anger
It burns a channel deep and venomous
All the long way down the miserable Mississippi
And flows out in the red silt at its mouth

I can’t tell my story in gentle tones
For my people were not treated gently 
14,000 strong
Burned from their homes in 1755

                    Have Mercy!

Le Grand Dérangement
The Great Expulsion
because they refused to take up arms against their French countrymen
Only 3,000 made it to Louisiana
That why this mud is so sacred to me
My family names are LaPoint and LeBlanc
2 of only 60 surnames to survive the ethnic cleansing
But we made it 

                    Have Mercy!

We thrived in an impossible wilderness
Found peace and nourishment below sea level

               Who is your mother?
               Are you a Catholic?
               Can you make a roux?

               And Culture

                    Have Mercy!

I’m a Cajun, a coon-ass, a bug-eating Bayou Wildman
I’m also an Acadian
Forever displaced from his home in the cold north
Forever attached to the wet black mud of Louisiana
Above all, of this, I’m proud

                    Have Mercy!

Viens ici! I hear my momma calling
The gumbo’s ready and the water’s rising in the cobbled streets
The air smells raw, sticky and warm
It smells like suffering and injustice
Like untold stories
And forgotten ancestry
Hidden under Mardi Gras Masks

It smells like home, hope and family

                    Have Mercy!