Apologies to Andy Young
Your poems. of course, are brilliant
My star, right now, is not
Trying to read another’s grief
fine lines on dull paper
through the fog the smoke
of a nation in flames
I think instead I’ll gather
up all my Everett Maddox
to read by the sports TV light
at the bar around the corner
indifferent to all news
get tipsy on this drunken boat
abandoning this ship of fools
write epitaphs on bar napkins
for the contract on frail parchment
the anthems and Souza bands
drowned in this sewer river
draining Middle America.
Museum of the Broken Heart
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).
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Well Bottom Blues 
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