Mark J. Mitchell<\/p>\n
After her failure as unicorn bait
\nshe folded compass roses for lost maps.
\nFlat captains dropped them through their sailor\u2019s caps.
\nThey sank and opened like abandoned freight.
\nNext came a quick attempt to rescue moons
\nfrom night\u2019s backdrop — she only slept through that.
\nShe tried to polish used apostle spoons
\nuntil they cracked her tiny hands. White cats
\nbegan to circle her, counter-clockwise.
\nShe couldn\u2019t count them all, but her pale fears
\nwere blooming. Cool palms slapped against her thighs.
\nHer lips moved. Words slipped past criminal ears.
\nThey tickled. She sat still, too tired to try.
\nEons became days, hours became years.<\/p>\n
MARK J. MITCHELL<\/b> studied writing at UC Santa Cruz. His work has appeared in many periodicals as well as the anthologies Good Poems, American Places, Hunger Enough, and Line Drives. His chapbook, Three Visitors<\/i>, is available from Negative Capability Press; his novel, Knight Prisoner<\/i>, was just published by Vagabondage Press. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the documentarian Joan Juster.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Mark J. Mitchell After her failure as unicorn bait she folded compass roses for lost maps. Flat captains dropped them through their sailor\u2019s caps. They sank and opened like abandoned freight. Next came a quick attempt to rescue moons from … Continue reading