Glass shatters in an instant
Shards marked in trails of blood
Housekeeping fled the country
The men folk circle up a posse
Fondling oily unconcealed carry
And their obsolete typewriters
Promote the show’s last run
The Last Candidate is hoisted
On a flag-draped media scaffold
The menfolk with press cards
In the brim of grandfather’s hat
Issue confusing directions
Carefully chosen mob ascends
Empty trap door snaps open
And we all hang separately
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).
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Well Bottom Blues 
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