cryptical envelopment
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On Robinson Jeffers and Revision
“Clearly [Robinson Jeffers] did not linger over brief passages to the degree Ezra Pound might have urged him to, and he felt none of the urgency to revise and refine his work that is characteristic of modern poets as diverse as Eliot and Marianne Moore. Not that Jeffers is crude, or simple-minded, for he is… Continue reading
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Old New Poets Prize
On the anniversary of my first published poems 17 years ago at age 52 (archived link below) I will take a moment to lament all of the publications which seek to glamorize the young, whether its an “emerging poet prize” with a ridiculous age limit or those “30 under 30” articles in the local lifestyle newspaper/magazine.… Continue reading
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The Silicon Dragon
He fooled the AI bird ID appthis old man mouthing bird calls—I knew in that moment humanswill defeat the rising silicon dragonif we lean on the elders instead —Mark A. Folse Continue reading
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Surrender
I was always troubled by the title of the beautiful John McLaughlin and Carlos Santana collaboration Love Devotion Surrender. Surrender was never an appealing option for me. I burn with a defiant Promethean fire only death will extinguish. And yet as I grow older, surrender calls me: not to the feet of the tin idol… Continue reading
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America’s funeral procession
America’s funeral procession runs through New Orleansto the sea: the residual dust of busted Missouri sod,limbs and whole trees, the carcasses of errant livestock,twinkly drink cans, forever bottles, empty chemical drums,raw and sanitized sewage, pesticide and fertilizer,the latter fueling algae blooms which suck all oxygenfrom the Gulf waters, producing vast dead zones.The reject and the… Continue reading
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Game Over
If the AI revolution brings about an age of abundance, as Elon Musk has begun to suggest lest we bring out the guillotine, and no one goes hungry or burns with avarice; if the computers not only cure all our diseases and extend our lives but solve every puzzling mathematical theorem and scientific mystery for… Continue reading
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No Time to Reminisce
Yellowing awards, that underdog political win, corporate accolades, that fat Bank bonus that went into a kitchen in the house sold after the divorce. Two practically perfect children who don’t call often enough. A few old friendships almost our same age. It’s been quite a run but I’m not done. At the edge of decrepitude… Continue reading
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Oh! That Holy Ghost!
They’re dead to me, the judgemental ones—Bad tempered sky daddy and even his gentle sonif He will one day come back riding Wrath likea fifth horse of the Rome-gone-wrong apocalypse.But Oh! That Holy Ghost!She comes to me on colorful wings, speaking in the tongues of susurration, of bird song and call.And I am her evangelist,… Continue reading
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, 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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