San Francisco and the mist

Mark G. Pennington was born 1985 and lives and writes in Kendal, UK. He has recently been nominated for the Pushcart prize.  He has poems in TL;DR, Scarlet Leaf Review, Futures Trading, Poetry Super Highway, The Blue Nib, Not Your Mother’s Breast Milk, Visions with Voices, Shot Glass Journal, Cease CowsPoetry Pacific and is soon to appear in The Oddville Press and Moledro.  He has also published a first book in 2012, titled Lithium Clockwork under the name J. Rose.


San Francisco and the mist

In the banana sunshine,
mascara eyes,
deadened the beats.
Sybaritic lips,
puttered like milking babies;
the spoiling breath.

Every woman’s hair
knelt like mane
and dropped stars.
A perpetual broken heart:
wrapped and bound;
hoary rag paper.

The solitary barbecue
postulated by the revered smoke:
maestro itself,
chef-d’oeuvre from
a hatless busker,
renders accordion girl an effigy of jazz valeta.

 

[image: A Foggy San Francisco Sunrise | Mark Lilly]

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