Well Bottom Blues

Oh my God it's full of stars!

The Old Man and the R

All I managed so far today in  NYC is coffee, the Strand Bookstore (but only the first floor where poetry is), lunch and back in bed in my hostel closet with my feet up. Not ruling out a nap before I leave to meet the kids at 3:00. 

I am not the mad dog Americano who, 10 years ago, climbed the medieval warrens of the Albacīn in the heat of noon to reach Sacramonte in search of the ghost of Lorca and staggered down the Calle Elvira under a fierce  sun to reach the porta of his poem.

I am not the younger man who that same year managed the steep up and down from the castle to the hillside town in the South Tyrol on the daily for cigarettes and toured all of Venice in search of Pound.

Time to learn to live with limits and favor leisure over excitement.

,
, ,
The Typist's avatar

Posted by:

The Typist

Ghost of a Poet, Risen. Woke as fuck. Beltalowda. Thor Viki. Singing about the dark times. Formerly of WetBankGuide.blogspot.com & ToulouseStreet.wordpress.com & @OddWords. wellbottomblues.com

Leave a comment

About Me

Mark Folse is a provincial diarist and aspiring minor poet from New Orleans. His past blogging adventures included the Katina/Federal Flood blog wetbankguide on blogspot.com which David Simon told NY Magazine was one of three blogs that helped inform Treme, and Toulouse Street–Odd Bits of Life in New Orleans, which once outranked the Doobie Brothers on Google Search. His work has appeared in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, The New Delta Review, Metazen, New Laurel Review, Ellipsis,  What We Know: New Orleans as Home, Please Forward, The Maple Leaf Rag IV, and A Howling in the Wires (which he co-edited).

.

Recent Posts

Newsletter