​these streets doo ***
with houses stained
rich by the rising sun
and you should see the
Corinthians, columns and
fences and blades of
grass; palm old money
shaded by forked
voodoo trees that
creep and hue the
streets cool,  
trees with roots
and brown skin
that grooves and
deepens, hearer of
that Mississipi
hymn that spoke
of wading and water
but god there is
no water
in Uptown.