Mark J. Mitchell
—Poetry by Mark J. Mitchell, San Francisco, CA
CABLE CAR HOOPTETOODLE
The cars roll—
too shiny for fog.
She held off the coast
and let sun pour
bright as Sonoma butter
on ringing bells.
Tourists like them free.
Every local glows,
proud of these hills.
The cars roll—
too shiny for fog.
She held off the coast
and let sun pour
bright as Sonoma butter
on ringing bells.
Tourists like them free.
Every local glows,
proud of these hills.
FOG FANTASIA
Some days the bridge just disappears. Damp fog
swallows it whole, leaving a void crossing
this tide. Your trust’s required. A vacant song
leaves its foghorn. You can’t know what it sings.
You pull your collar close, brush back hair
already damp. You know what’s over there—
you tell yourself that your dreams lie to you,
that light will open out of gray sky. New
currents will drag you gentle out to sea.
You’ll float—serene, calm, dull. The other shore’s
mystic caress—STOP! Stop this now, before
you dissolve into flat, ignorant memes.
A foggy day. A bridge. And strong Spring tides
pull evening towards a moon. Watch it rise.
Some days the bridge just disappears. Damp fog
swallows it whole, leaving a void crossing
this tide. Your trust’s required. A vacant song
leaves its foghorn. You can’t know what it sings.
You pull your collar close, brush back hair
already damp. You know what’s over there—
you tell yourself that your dreams lie to you,
that light will open out of gray sky. New
currents will drag you gentle out to sea.
You’ll float—serene, calm, dull. The other shore’s
mystic caress—STOP! Stop this now, before
you dissolve into flat, ignorant memes.
A foggy day. A bridge. And strong Spring tides
pull evening towards a moon. Watch it rise.
STRANGER DANCE
He watched her back a long time. Her soft sway
kept slow time steadily, his metronome.
Her elastic music measured his day.
Not a dancing creature, his mother would say,
he herked and jerked stiff as a moon
clock. Her soft back was long, a controlled sway
was her weapon of choice. She liked to play
roles: child, temptress, wayward wife whose next home
was elastic as music. All working days
bored her. His hot gaze was modeling clay
her cool hands enjoyed. He lived on his own.
She watched him back. The swift time held soft sway
over each of his steps. Her eyes delayed
his dreaming self and her diva mask loaned
him elastic music. He measured days—
rationing them. He was trying to save
her like coins but knew she’d remain unknown.
He watched her, lost in time, her soft sway
stretched musically through his measured days.
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
He watched her back a long time. Her soft sway
kept slow time steadily, his metronome.
Her elastic music measured his day.
Not a dancing creature, his mother would say,
he herked and jerked stiff as a moon
clock. Her soft back was long, a controlled sway
was her weapon of choice. She liked to play
roles: child, temptress, wayward wife whose next home
was elastic as music. All working days
bored her. His hot gaze was modeling clay
her cool hands enjoyed. He lived on his own.
She watched him back. The swift time held soft sway
over each of his steps. Her eyes delayed
his dreaming self and her diva mask loaned
him elastic music. He measured days—
rationing them. He was trying to save
her like coins but knew she’d remain unknown.
He watched her, lost in time, her soft sway
stretched musically through his measured days.
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
One day if I go to heaven … I’ll look around and say, ‘It ain’t bad, but it ain’t San Francisco.’
—Herb Caen
____________________
Today we’re fortunate enough to have another new visitor to the Kitchen, this one also from Baghdad by the Bay. Mark J. Mitchell was born in Chicago and grew up in Southern California. So far, he has published two novels, three chapbooks and two full-length collections. His first chapbook won the Negative Capability Award. His latest poetry collection, Roshi San Francisco, was just published by Norfolk Publishing. An earlier collection, Starting from Tu Fu, was recently published by Encircle Publications. A meager online presence can be found at www.facebook.com/MarkJMitchellwriter/, and a primitive web site now exists: mark-j-mitchell.square.site/. And here's a link to his YouTube channel: www.youtube.com/channel/UCITfNRtDvqhEYHO9hcMpUXQ/. Since Mark worked as a tour guide in the City (where he made his marginal living pointing out pretty things) for the last 8 years (until the pandemic shut down tourism), there are some San Francisco poems read on location (his book, Roshi San Francisco, is all SF poetry).
Mark is very fond of baseball, Louis Aragon, Miles Davis, Kafka and Dante. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the activist and documentarian, Joan Juster. Now, like everyone else, he’s unemployed. Welcome to the Kitchen, Mark, and don’t be a stranger!
By the way, for all you Form Fiddlers out there, Mark’s “Stranger Dance” is a Villanelle, and “Fog Fantasia” is a Sonnet. Mark is no stranger to forms.
Tomorrow night (10/7), 7pm, The Poetry Night Reading Series in Davis presents Aaron Bradford and Tom Goff, plus open mic (4 min. or 2 items), at the John Natsoulas Gallery, 521 1st St., Davis. Host: Dr. Andy Jones. “Comfortably distanced poetry reading”; vaccinated folks are invited to join us! To protect the safety of everyone in attendance, please bring and wear your masks. Find the Facebook page for this event at www.facebook.com/events/197469059125790/.
__________________
—Medusa
—Herb Caen
____________________
Today we’re fortunate enough to have another new visitor to the Kitchen, this one also from Baghdad by the Bay. Mark J. Mitchell was born in Chicago and grew up in Southern California. So far, he has published two novels, three chapbooks and two full-length collections. His first chapbook won the Negative Capability Award. His latest poetry collection, Roshi San Francisco, was just published by Norfolk Publishing. An earlier collection, Starting from Tu Fu, was recently published by Encircle Publications. A meager online presence can be found at www.facebook.com/MarkJMitchellwriter/, and a primitive web site now exists: mark-j-mitchell.square.site/. And here's a link to his YouTube channel: www.youtube.com/channel/UCITfNRtDvqhEYHO9hcMpUXQ/. Since Mark worked as a tour guide in the City (where he made his marginal living pointing out pretty things) for the last 8 years (until the pandemic shut down tourism), there are some San Francisco poems read on location (his book, Roshi San Francisco, is all SF poetry).
Mark is very fond of baseball, Louis Aragon, Miles Davis, Kafka and Dante. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the activist and documentarian, Joan Juster. Now, like everyone else, he’s unemployed. Welcome to the Kitchen, Mark, and don’t be a stranger!
By the way, for all you Form Fiddlers out there, Mark’s “Stranger Dance” is a Villanelle, and “Fog Fantasia” is a Sonnet. Mark is no stranger to forms.
Tomorrow night (10/7), 7pm, The Poetry Night Reading Series in Davis presents Aaron Bradford and Tom Goff, plus open mic (4 min. or 2 items), at the John Natsoulas Gallery, 521 1st St., Davis. Host: Dr. Andy Jones. “Comfortably distanced poetry reading”; vaccinated folks are invited to join us! To protect the safety of everyone in attendance, please bring and wear your masks. Find the Facebook page for this event at www.facebook.com/events/197469059125790/.
__________________
—Medusa
Mark Mitchell
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
