Young Goths in Love Jackson Square breathes warm and sweet, The humid retreat from the Louisiana sun. New Orleans natives endure the heat And the slings and arrows of outrageous tourist fun. What brings us to this strange old town, To rummage through streets grown insidious And gaudy? What strange and sacred Cajun crown Metonomaniacally rules, grown hideous? To crows of Odin and Morrigan's rooks Walk the streets like misplaced Cockney get; The murderous mockingbird looks Of ersatz poets kill, aid, and abet. Past mimes and jazzmen we seek eternity, Too much the mayflies for immortality. copyright 26 May 2000 by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; New Orleans.