The Bluesiana Snake Festival. Aubrey Bart

Liz and Johnny amped off: “Because it has no doors!”

      Carriagedriver rolled with it: “Yeah you right. It have no doze . . .”

      Blaha hollered in their wake: “You ain’ never lied!”

      Womanvoice in the carriage: “Who are those people?”

       . . . brainchild of some local shaker and mover name of Ken Pope, advocate for Quarterpeople earning wages keeping the Quarter kept, the duly formed Vieux Carre Task Force came to be known as Proffit’s hippies . . .

      Proffit said, “Ahright ahready, go git it got.” (Vintage Bobospeak, “Get it got”—by some lights the “Hippocratic Oath of streetsweepery.”)

      Hidden Dave moved out at a fetchdown sixties slouch, dragging his broom, whistling off his Marche Slave/Enigma Variations medley . . .

      . . . Appointed rounds east of midnight, pavements heart of town, pushbrooms and cartwheels made nightmusic for the soul . . .