Poems by Alison Pelegrin
Plantation Tours
My father drove a bus down River Road.
La-Z-boy expert on antebellum lore,
he knew plantation ghosts by name. So proud—
I stood shotgun and hung on every word.
He named plantation ghosts as if to conjure
for his bus a spectral trail down River Road.
The niche at Nottaway where servants stood
rain or shine, a white washed open chamber—
a karmic ghost to my mind. I was proud
to see through the gloss. Guides in period
hoop skirts reeked of BO and skipped over
the legacy of blood on River Road.
Sugar kettles and child-sized shackles stowed
out of sight or downplayed on walking tours.
The cooks grinned in the outside kitchen. Proud
child of the help, I poked fun at master’s
puppet pants, ate cornbread baked on open fire.
My father drove a bus down River Road.
He told ghost stories. I rode shotgun. Proud.
Nottaway
————Nottaway plantation was destroyed by fire on May 15, 2025
Only Nottaway’s niche, where servants stood
rain or shine, a white hot waiting chamber,
remains. Karma’s slow burn. The ghosts are proud
their last word was fire, a Molotov cloud
of atrocities roiling up the ladder.
What’s left? Nottaway’s niche, where servants stood—
children, really, ring bearers still and good
and locked in place. Their imprint won’t flicker
in the howls of late-stage karma. Disruptive, proud,
the spirits rejoice, and debutants brood.
If this isn’t the best payback ever!
Nottaway’s gone—powdered ash where it stood.
Its orphaned brides are Karens now, foul-mouthed,
but their dreams of floating down spiral stairs
remain. Karma’s slow roast—the ghosts laugh loud
with voices of hellfire, their message clear.
No more purity vows or stag parties here.
Only Nottaway’s niche, where children stood,
can stay. Karma’s barbeque. The ghosts are proud.
Alison Pelegrin is the recipient of fellowships and grants from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Louisiana Board of Regents, the Foundation for Louisiana, as well as the Academy of American Poets, in support of her work offering poetry workshops in Louisiana Prisons. Alison’s two most recent poetry collections are Our Lady of Bewilderment (2022) and Waterlines (2016), both with LSU Press. Her work has appeared in The Southern Review, The Missouri Review, and The Best American Poetry 2025. Alison is Writer-in-Residence at Southeastern Louisiana University, and served as Louisiana Poet Laureate from 2023-2025.
Table of Contents for A Formal Feeling