Stella

it was a street car
named
perspire.
a lot of sweaty tired
people
were on it
coming home from work.
not a day
went by when your
back didn't stick to
your shirt.
I grew tired of jumbalaya
and catfish.
hanging vines
and swamps.
who dat,
etc.
I needed to get home
to where the water
stayed put,
didn't rise halfway
up the house any time
it rained,
to a place where I understood
the language,
where I wasn't
always yelling
for Stella to forgive me.