Grenada
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Night Train to Lorca
There are moments I record here and moments I do not. Moments of terror or desire or shallow despair at the worthlessness of this endeavor. Why must I write? Because not to is to be a tourist.— Bill Lavender, “Tui” I got lost after leaving the Alhambra and stopped for lunch. On the way I Continue reading
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Bury me in that warm country
There is a primordial order, transcendent / of languages, the form for casting poetry. Continue reading
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There is a bitter root
Somewhere in this house is (should be) a hardback first edition (foxed) City Lights pocketbook of the selected poems of Federico Garcia Lorca. I carried it to Spain and laid it on his desk in his home in town. My tour had to wait for the private visit of a famous bullfighter. And I had 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 