Analysis of Tuba

Driving across Airline highway
on our way to Baton Rouge.
Tuba all polished and shining
is riding shotgun with me.
To pass the time I sing sea shanties
like “down down where the dead men
go” and “Haul away Joe” .
While Tuba sits quietly waiting for
her moment.

She’ll  have her day Tomorrow for
sure. Because tomorrow is Fat Tuesday
and the Mardi Gras carnival will be in
full swing.

Me and Tuba will lead the carnival
through the boulevards, streets
and avenues of Baton Rouge.
Blasting out: “when the saints go
marching in” to the crowds singing
and dancing along the way.

Afterwards we’ll feast on Jambalaya
& Crawfish washed down with gallons
of Rum punches & bloody Mary’s.
Then we’ll round of the night in The Smiling
Dog.

Later on I’ll probably be found  in the early hours of the morning leaning against some
shop doorway; knees knocked;
head on chest; hair floating in the
night breeze with Tuba held tightly to my chest