A deep sense of the landscape and people of the American West infuses Western State University English professor Mark Todd’s poetry. For the last three decades he’s also promoted the art by organizing poetry readings by Colorado writers in unexpected places, including a rodeo. Todd was recently recognized with the Karen Chamberlain Award for Lifetime Achievement in Poetry in Colorado.
Todd has authored two volumes of poetry and a number of other books. He has also collaborated with his wife Kym on a travel guide to Colorado's haunted hotels and several works of science fiction.
Poems by Mark Todd:
THE BIRTHDAY A .22 was all it took, and a rifle caressed by proud hands once ranch rough – hands that now wore the brittle of decay, trapped most days by bed clothes, or pressed hard against smooth walls. But this day, sitting in his son’s pick-up, promised for rabbit hunting, he sat alone. And while his son fetched the old man’s hat inside, no one heard the pop, or saw him slump, a burgundy trickle seeping from his chin, painting the hounds-tooth checkers on his shirt. ON CATTLE TIME The drive Toward town Feels harried, But of course, This is still Rural Colorado, And I slow the car: Now a cautious, driven wedge Into the herd of cattle That claims the road That adjusts The schedules Of spring. GHOST WRITERS We’ve decided now’s the time to rewrite our bios. Perhaps a science fiction or some ramped-up version of our life – for future fans, who’d opt for sights of wide-screen worlds in contravention. We’ll star, of course, when it’s time to write the scene where all the Earth’s at height- ened high alert, or at collision’s door, ramping up our scripted life with light sabers flashing for viewers’ delight. Weakened and scorched, in true affliction, we persevere in time to right what’s wrong – well, maybe not that trite! But still, two bios worth inscription: finaléd, bold and amped up lives where order’s restored when we exit (stage right). Just a bit of flourish to our rendition now that we think we might rewrite more ramped-up versions of our life. TAMPED, BUT LOOSE ENOUGH TO BREATHE It’s not that bitch, necessity – whose musings purport to guide invention’s guile – but fear herself, unsung goddess of primal paste, who twists gristle to hang meat on nightmares. Don’t underestimate that gal. Take Poe, who plucked strings to quicken Angst of burial alive, so vigorous, pages of Sears & Roebuck once sold toe-attaching cord to jangle graveyard bells atop a town of mounds, where even sextants assured they’d tamp earth loose enough for jiggle room. How’s that for a siren taunt from that little girl? In fact, it’s still her voice that tamps quotidian, seething life just loose enough to breathe. "The Birthday" and "On Cattle Time" by Mark Todd reprinted from Wire Song, published by Conundrum Press, a division of Bower House, copyright 2001 Mark Todd. Used with permission. "Ghost Writers" and "Tamped, But Loose Enough To Breathe" by Mark Todd reprinted from Tamped, But Loose Enough To Breathe, published by Ghost Road Press, copyright 2008 Mark Todd. Used with permission. |
