New Orleans - woman of the south

Why do I have the feeling
that I should go out -
sit in one of the parks,
look at the statues of men
long dead, long dead?

I could bring the book
but could not read
it is too dark
and there's nobody
to protect me
in the dark.

I could listen to Ray Charles,
no son of this city but son
or - as I do now - to KT Tunstall
the daughter of someone, I'm sure,
not the south, never the south.

I could look at her
in the night, in the dark
I could feel her embrace
see her made-up face
her shiny dress
her swinging hips dancing.

Looks like a poem, folks.