cryptical envelopment
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A Turing Test
Interrogator: Is there a window in the room where you are? A: No. B: No. Interrogator: Is it raining outside? A: Yes. B: I think so. Interrogator: Can you hear the rain on the roof? A: No. B: Yes, now that you mentioned it. Continue reading
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The Conga Beat of Wings
I was getting the side eye from birders in the Couterie Forest Arboretum yesterday for my drumming playinv on a small speaker on the strap of my water bottle. Little do they know I startled a hawk the other day turning a bend, long after they would have heard the drumming. Everything in that wood… Continue reading
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That Bright Moment
YOU ARE TRAPPED IN THAT BRIGHT MOMENTWHERE YOU LEARNED YOUR DOOM— Samuel R. Delaney in City of a Thousand Suns In Delaney’s novella trilogy Fall of the Towers the characters must confront the mass, simultaneous discovery by an entire society that a key assumption about their lives–that there was an enemy beyond the barrier; that… Continue reading
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We return like the tides
What will happen when the next big one overtops the levees of new orleans, asks Dr, Jeff Masters former director of the National Hurricane Center in this article. What happens to New Orleans’ levees when a Category 4 hurricane hits? My answer on the link post he shared on Blue Sky: We return, like the… Continue reading
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Crow Law
Sitting as an old man sometimes must as if waiting for a bus, I picked up a book I keep handy, 250 Poems A Portable Anthology, which I let fall open to pick me a poem and found a new favorite Crow poem. CROW LAW Linda Hogan p. 1993*========================The temple where crow worshipswalks forward in… Continue reading
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Ghosts of the Flood
Originally published on Wetbankguide.blogspot.com om October 2005 ” . . . so many, / I had not thought death had undone so many . . . “The Wasteland, T.S. Eliot Sometimes I feel them, my wife told me, their spirits, as I’m driving down the street. All that suffering, she explains, all those people. As… Continue reading
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Spare me Lear and Hamlet
for Nancy Spare me Lear and Hamlet.The height and depth of madnessmeet together in The Tenantwho drags their battered bodyup the twisted stairs and backto that window to plunge again. Continue reading
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Lost
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside youAre not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,Must ask permission to know it and be known.The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,I have made this place around you.If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.No two… 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, 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 