Bio
Mark has a chapbook, “Blue Meridian,” forthcoming from Kelsay Books. He has had poems published in Main Street Rag, Slipstream, Bayou, Schuylkill Valley Journal, Lullwater Review, Pinyon, Pensive, and many other literary publications.
Originally from Cleveland, Ohio, Mark is now a resident of Golden Valley, AZ. When not working for a mental health agency, he enjoys birds, cats, fine wine, and spending time with his family.
Trigger Warning
The trees already wondering the turn
around time for new leaves, a heavy sense
of losing loitering in branches, trunks,
political affiliations leaning light,
the squirrels running back and forth on bark,
more vertical on maple, oak. Unless
of late you watched up close with naked eye
and/or binoculars, the migratory birds
hadn’t given notice. Witches stitching
haunting costumes, the pumpkins hallowed out
with wicked warning smiles by candle light;
it doesn’t need explained to anyone
night is necessary, that light obliges.
Considering the skull, it is incredible
how serene a countenance can be. You want
to scream your partner hasn’t kissed you for so long,
the leaves are turning orange, yellow, red—
the weather’s chilly, have your candy ready,
already devils knocking on the door.