I’m descending into the The Selected Poems of Robinson Jeffers (758 pages) just as 11 years ago about this time I was deep into the Cantos of Ezra Pound at Castle Brunnenburg. I went to the castle as a strange holiday celebrating completion of the B.A. in English literature started almost 40 years earlier. The bleak Modernity under the castle stones was relieved by transiting through Spain where I saw Goya’s Black Paintings and Bosch and other wonders. I may never reach The Louvre but I have visited Museo Prado and am content. And like Shane MacGowan I rode the night train to Lorca at Grenada.
I’ve been through Jeffers thin modern The Wild God of the World! An Anthology of Robinson Jeffers several times and find him intriguing. As I find myself frequently disappearing into the trees of the small forest in the park by my home to escape the noise and smoke of a burning world, I’m contemplating a way to express not Jeffers’ eco-facist Inhumanism but a Transhumanism, a way forward in the world that draws on our ancestral relationship to Earth and Spirit as well as what can be salvaged from technology.
Searching for a voice for a new humanism in Jeffers
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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