Drifting Off, East North East

Beau Boudreaux

 

I’m the one
inside the crowded bistro

reading alone
with an untouched martini

a young woman in floral dress
pedals by

and there’s a boy cross-legged
at the trolley stop fumbling papers

why close the sculpture garden at night…
I’ve never been to Boston

Baltimore or Philly—
the window, people sip
 

outside the coffeeshop
form a patio

may be too much
with myself

like a cheap shot
of tequila after many rounds with friends

is not last year, but a decade
when I sat for the first time

through a matinee
sunshine cooking car seats

a shock sitting into
like biting a lemon

  

 

 

Beau Boudreaux

Beau Boudreaux is a poet and professor in Continuing Studies at Tulane University in New Orleans.  His poems have recently appeared in Antioch Review, Cream City Review, and Margie

Brazilian

Beau  Boudreaux

 

She leans in                                                       toward my ear

 

overwhelmed   awash                                     shock of perfume

 

zoo stench, sniffing                                          an old Easter lily

 

no, I really do                                                   I admire the cut of her

 

hemline, zebra skin                                          bangs on the brow

 

oh  commando                                                   Ms. Orlando

 

information I don’t need                                 a cheat, she’s the only one

 

smoking, cocktailed                                          touching my arm.

 

 

Beau Boudreaux is a poet and professor in Continuing Studies at Tulane University in New Orleans.  His poems have recently appeared in Antioch Review, Cream City Review, and Margie.