madness
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ZAP!
I’ve got more issues than all the Marvel and DC comics ever published but I’m also colorful and entertaining. Continue reading
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The Last Days of May
I was born in 1957 and so I am reckoned by some one of the last of the baby boomers, that generation borne by the parents who went through World War II. I grew up in a neighborhood full of fathers who had served in World War II, some later in Korea, and frankly I… Continue reading
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Reading Pablo Neruda
and all the other reprobates, I think: broken people make art—and do other reprehensible, sometimes horrific malfunctional things. Artists step outside the bounds of propriety to describe it. Some are cast out because of social deformity. They are inherently transgressive. They sit away from the communal fire. They wander long in the woods. Some transgress into the… Continue reading
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Poète Maudit Part Deux
Being a conduit for lightning is difficult for those around me when it spills over into incesssnt chatter or abrupt irritability so I try to keep it locked in this office like Frankenstein’s monster, venting mostly on the page. Continue reading
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Motor Head
As a second Guinness spreads its dark blanketover a rough idling motor mind sucking fumesyou begin to understand heroin’s attractionfor artists with a similar redline turbine mindwhen Maxwell’s demon stokes the furnace boxto a dangerous boiling, release valve screaming. Continue reading
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Holiday in Cyclothemia
Informally known as “BiPolar III” it is that disorder’s slightly less demented cousin and counts as “in remission.” April 31is International Surrealist Poetry Day!Celebrate with your favorite elephantsycophant. Read them a bowl a alphabet soup omitting the vowels. Watch them writhe with excitement in South Pacific musicalmescaline color! (Gonna wash that manright out of our… Continue reading
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His Raptures
so many,I had not thought death had undone so many. — T.S. Eliot, “The Wasteland” Not death but that fine madness, though so many ended their own lives: John Berryman, Anne Sexton, Delmore Schwartz. I have lied about suicidal ideation to psych although that has mostly been a creative excersise. Have you ever thought: stop… Continue reading
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DON’T BLINK
I was doing well in remission with minimal meds until the current circus of the damned rolled over town. I had my own imps to deal with they were mostly under control doing very well thanks for voting for hell. 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
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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Well Bottom Blues 