Fragments of Flooded Futures

I can't stand the way you look at me. It's like your eyes have those little traffic light cameras inside. Everytime I do something wrong you snap a picture.

Mutter something about god loves me…
Excuse me, 'G'od.

Fragments of images from the last time we were in New Orleans flood my mind.
Flood. Ha. No pun intended.
I'm thinking about my favorite ones.
Most of them I realize weren't from New Orleans.
Some were from Biloxi.
Why the fuck were we in Biloxi ?
It was 1945. You made me use the blacks only restroom.
That was when it was ok to discriminate. But you know better now.
Some images were from Dallas.
It was 2005.
You wouldn't let us get married.
Something about Adam & Eve.
Something about a sin.
I guess you don't know that much better now, do you ?
Some images were from places that only exist in my mind.
Where buildings float on the water and highway exits lead to mountainside meadows filled with flowers that bloom in the fall and leaves that drop in the spring.
Why didn't you make those buildings float ?

I can't stand the way you talk to me. It's like your voice is digitalized, like a weather radio. Always warning me. Always telling me the future.

Well what about New Orleans.
Where was the future then ?
Where were you then ?

Like you're listening…