The Deluge

I am so upset about the Gulf I am not sure where to begin.
That feeling that no one understands you in the first place.
And no one in America really cares.
I dare say the Anglos don't care.
I just don't speak French well enough to really say it.
(which is what was nice about yesterday. I spoke the few French words I knew in an accent that the professor from Martinique understood. In Europe people look at you like the earth pushed you up from a mineral spring).
When my grandmother fled to Memphis that was the first time she left the Gulf in ages.
She was born on the Gulf.
Moved to Picayune when she married my grandfather and stayed through 2 more marriages.
She even survived Camille.
Though the rest of the family could not make it to my parents wedding in the summer of 1969 in Alabama,
she did.

Now, I see all the people walking around with plastic bags and it bothers me.

I still have not found friends in Treme.

I know they moved from that neighborhood. But to where I do not know.