i have my first memory of the house in kenner the big trucks driving through the floods our mother watched us as we splashed in the street and laughed at our own venician novelty. at the side of my father, i rode the streetcar and copied the way he pronouced "saint" at audubon park, i pushed my cousin on the swingset and we laughed out loud with each other at my uncle's house on jackson, i set off the alarm and hid in the living room when the police came at the house in slidell, i talked to my uncle alone and felt more adult than i had ever before at the house off veterans, we walked the streets and talked for hours about kurt cobain at the new year's party, i watched the sparklers in the streets and talked my way to my first glass of champagne at the house on ponchatrain, we all ate fresh crab and gossiped about the family not there at my aunt's house in metairie, i drank whiskey all night and blacked out in the backseat near zephyr stadium at the side of my first love, we kissed by the aquarium and felt like we were married for a while the last time was with friends, i explained the river and walked along the levee, telling my dad's stories that last time, i thought i would return