SCRABBLE© – a poem by Mark J. Mitchell

SCRABBLE©
 
            Brothers, do not make collections of words
—Zen Master Hengchuan (1222-1289)
 
 
 
 
                                    He played on screens
                                    like everyone else.
 
                                    Still, around the house,
                                    in jars that once held fruit
 
                                    preserved from fall, pickled
                                    eggs to last through winter,
 
                                    he kept ancient wooden
                                    tiles, unsorted. From time
 
                                    to time, but every day,
                                    he filled his right hand
 
                                    with letters. Worried them
                                    like rosary beads. Sure
 
                                    that runes would give up
                                    meaning and form themselves
 
                                    into that one, perfect score:
                                    The misplaced name of God.
 
 

Mark J. Mitchell was born in Chicago and grew up in southern California. His latest poetry collection, Roshi San Francisco, was just published by Norfolk Publishing. Starting from Tu Fu  was recently published by Encircle Publications. A new collection is due out in December from Cherry Grove.He 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 where he made his marginal living pointing out pretty things. Now, like everyone else, he’s unemployed.He has published 2 novels and three chapbooks and two full length collections so far.