Such polite pudenda in Baroque art.
Barely a hair to suggest that Venus
can be, deep inside, as wild as Pan.
Does the Great Goat look unimpressed
by this demure and listless goddess
against the avid pursuit of Dionysian
creatures through the wild wood;
nymphs who, if caught, will not wilt
into a chaste, retiring flower but open
their blossoms to perfume the wood
these abstracted painters profane with
their tepid, Catholic boys school fantasies.
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, Trampoline, Unlikely Stories, Peauxdunque Review, LMNL Anthology, 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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