Vox Populi
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Barbara Hamby: New Orleans Dithyramb
And Satan said unto the Lord, “You have your work
and I have mine, but there is no sin the world
cannot hold,” and the Lord, he laughed himself a big one,
and said, “Satan, my friend, you are a sucker
beyond all Tootsie Pops, for I will raise up a storm
that will take out every slipshod beach house on stilts
from Biloxi to Corpus Christi, Texas, for I will mow
down the strip clubs, truck stops, and shrimp shacks
of the late twentieth century psychedelic plastic dream
and turn them into a trash heap the size
of the great state of Louisiana, and you will see
a revival of prayer and lamentations, for you
have them Saturday night, but when Sunday comes calling
they fall down on their knees and beg
for forgiveness,” and Satan said, “For the ear takes in words,
as the mouth gobbles zipper peas and buttered corn,
and are not our days are like those of a hired mule? So, give it
all you gots, Jehovah,” and the Lord called up
all the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, churned them
like a Bloody Mary in a blender on Bourbon Street,
and the party girls said, Naked I came into this world
and something tells me I won’t be wearing
a ball gown when I leave, and the good ole boys said,
In all our days we will make mule and squirrel gumbo
for our enemies with a ratio of one mule to one squirrel,
and the Lord said, “Shall vain words have no end?”
And Satan answered, “How juicy are righteous words
in the mouth of a flim-flam man, for your preachers,
Lord, are scamming the poor folk right out of their underpants,
but I’ve taken your gospel and turned it into the blues,
for I am the brother of dragons and the bubba of hawks,
and my skin is black upon me and my bones are crisper
that the skin of pork meat on a barbecue, my mouth harp sings
like a lost baby, cries out for the soft grass your storm
will bring up through potholes and tinderbox shanties,
and I will graze on those leaves of grass like Vishnu’s cattle,
the sacred bovine lowing of mornings laced with bird song
and the wild caw of crows where cars once crawled
like alligators from the swamp of my boiling mind.”
From Bird Odyssey (2018, University of Pittsburgh Press)
Copyright 2018 Barbara Hamby. Included in Vox Populi by permission of the author and publisher.
Barbara Hamby was born in New Orleans and raised in Honolulu. She is the author of seven books of poems, most recently Holoholo (Pitt, 2021). She has also edited an anthology of poems, Seriously Funny (Georgia, 2009), with her husband David Kirby. She teaches at Florida State University where she is Distinguished University Scholar.
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Read it before, wonderful then, wonderful now, promprting in me much jealousy.
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I’ve been envious of Barbara’s talent for years, but it’s never stopped me from loving and enjoying her poems!
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What a heady, exuberant, utterly serious poem!
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Yes, it is.
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When God and Satan speak in the book of Job, they used the vernacular of the 5th century BC. If God and Satan met this week, they used the vernacular of 2023 AD New Orleans, USA.
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Well-said, Luz.
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Wonderfully clever poem, Barbara. I would post a Smiley face here if I know how to do that. best, John Balaban
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Thanks, John.
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Wonderful poem! What a versatile poet!
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Isn’t she, though?
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Just went to Better World Books and ordered three of hers. Why have I waited so long? I have loved everything of hers you have posted.
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Her books are great. You will not be disappointed. Welcome to the Hamby Fan Club!
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Funny, prescient, and timeless. Thank you for this day maker!
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Barbara really is great, isn’t she? No one else writes poems like hers.
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Wow!
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double wow!
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Brilliant and terrifically funny.
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Brilliant and terrifically funny.
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I agree!
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Another superfan here. She is incomparable, irreverent, speaks the truth — she is witty and intelligent and oh, so talented. What JOY to read this poem!
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Well-said, Laure-Anne. You summarized my awe of her poems perfectly
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How fine to see this tour de force again. Best from Superfan Syd.
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Yes, I love Barbara’s poems.
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You know, Syd, when you start hearing voices, especially God and Satan squabbling, that it’s the beginning of the end. I guess that group includes all poets. xxoo Barbara
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Hahahaha
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