Well Bottom Blues

Oh my God it's full of stars!

Looks Like It Might Be Fixin’ To Storm Rag

Where should we direct our prayers now that the government  is decommissioning hurricane weather satellites? I don’t do Catholic anymore so the city’s Lady of Prompt Succor is out.  And many people in the United Christian States of America think that idolatry. Burnt offerings seem a bit much in our new heat regime, although the smoke rising up to heaven might reflect back a bit of sun.

And what to sacrifice? The only livestock in the city are chickens. How does one order a live perfect white bullock? I tried Amazon. Will Sybil the Soothsayer replace the nightly weather segment? Should I consult the Tarot, watching for The Tower? Or Lotería for El Árbol or El Paraguas?

My people have survived here over 300 years, mostly without the weather service or satellites, so maybe we’ll make it. Might have to consider some study shutters since it takes time to nail up plywood and there might be no warning. And get a pirogue to check on the neighbors afterwards.

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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

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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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