Along Highway 90 (Malaina White

Along Highway 90 (Malaina White - New Iberia, LA)

traveling highway 90
between new orleans and lafayette
at eighteen years old
tired of the strip
and the local scene
we are headed to tea time
in the quarter
free beer until ten pm
not ya mama’s tea
the quarter isn’t as crowded
on sunday nights
the street lamps stop
before they reach
the gay clubs
winter wunderland
in our unmentionables
at parades or oz
i can’t recall which
all i remember is being chased
by a biker dike
must have been my leather
rolling home
as the sun came up
singing “watermelon, watermelon”
when we can’t recall the lyrics
sleeping through the day
should we go again tonight?

traveling highway 90
between new orleans and lafayette
at twenty-eight years old
twin towers have fallen
the world turned upside down
military wife
alone with the baby and a toddler
i’m leaving new orleans
to stay with family
a few days back home
in new iberia
everything frozen
our plans halted
by terrorism, politics, and war
i don’t see my friends
anymore
i am the young mother
in the group
i see only my family
we are broke
the gas money spent
driving between new orleans
and new Iberia
is my only allowable splurge
the baby can’t nurse
sometimes i have to feed her
canned goat milk
cut with water
formula is expensive
especially the soy blend
which is what she requires
still we laugh
and find our way

traveling highway 90
between new orleans and lafayette
at thirty-two years old
and nothing is recognizable
katrina
the world doesn’t understand
why some didn’t evacuate
how do you evacuate
if you have no money, no car
nowhere to go
our trajectory changed
once more
out of our hands
we leave louisiana

traveling highway 90
between new orleans and lafayette
at fifty-one years old
my last three visits home
have been for funerals
this one is different
but no less heavy
the ghosts ride shotgun
ima haunt
i smile as i cross
the hale boggs
remembering when i was at the top
when it was struck by lightning
years ago
there are storm clouds above
my favorite weather
i flew in this time
and rented a nice suv
there’s money in the bank now
the baby and the toddler
are adults
and on their own
in austin
i’m driving to see them next
for my birthday weekend
as i pass a dead alligator
on the side of the road
outside raceland
i consider stopping
to take a picture
for my husband
but i keep driving
it starts raining around
morgan city
i pass the exit for
john darnall road
i sold daddy’s property
can’t go there anymore
i get a snowball
spearmint
life is different now
home is different now
i see family
we all seem to be numb still
shellshocked
we lost hannah
we move
like we’re under water
seeing my girls
lightens it a bit
i fly out of austin
for minneapolis
that’s where i live now
these trips
carry weight
i tattoo my skin
with my home
as a method
of grieving

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