Pela Estrada, episódio 11: Arcadia, LA e Houston, TX

I bought a hat in New Orleans
I bought it at a store in Royal Street, or Rue Royal. You
Can say it both, de-
Pending on your daily degree of
At first I thought that it was a local store, there was nothing
In it
That could make me think otherwise. But I was then told that
In fact
It’s a branch of a
S. Francisco hat business,
That has 30 something (two, I think) other stores in the US
And some more in Canada.

Doesn’t matter.
I bought a hat in New Orleans.
The store had a sax player jamming some tunes on
the corner, and served free
Rum with ice
To its customers. I thought
It was the perfect
To buy a hat
In New Orleans.

I wanted to buy a hat, because, you know, I’m
Already 30, and I thought, I already have
Enough miles to do it.
It´s time to have
My own hat,
Not only my father´s hat.
A hat that can outlive me, that I can
Leave behind, when I
Leave this world, and that someone
Else, a niece, or nephew, or a daughter or
a son, in case I have a
Daughter or a son (I doubt it, but
You never know)
Can pick it
up and
Take it with her
or him.

A niece, a nephew, a goddaughter or a
Godson, or just
Someone from a younger generation
That might find it funny to wear it
One day.
Thinking: this was the American hat that uncle Martinho
(Or just: that dude, Martinho)
Bought in New Orleans, when he
Did his american road trip
In a store that is part of an empire of 32 other stores (plus
Canada), but
That served free cold rum to
its customers, and
Had a sax player in the corner,
And she or he might wear it just for that, or because she or he
Remembers me as being a
Funny guy, or at least
Someone worth remembering
For one one good reason.
Or maybe they use it because
It is a cool
With a kind of sober badassness
And they will wear it and perhaps acknowledge
That I (the previous, anonymous owner of the hat)
had a nice taste.

To be honest, I think I bought what
I think is a nice hat. It
Is dark brown, 100%
Leather, and fits
My head very well. I fell for
Immediatly. I like its
Tone, its strength, and the
Way it looks
When I wear it.
Not old, nor young; not sage, nor
silly. Just

Today, as write this poem, in a
Motel on the outskirts of the
I’m going to wear it. And
You know what else I’m
Going to do?

I’m going to Texas.
I find it very, very
To go to Texas
With my new hat
That I bought in New Orleans.