Thursday, January 9, 2014



blues down my back/an abbreviated version

before I was born I knew I WAS me
it promised what I wanted
                             jazz AND Romance
my OWN mind

I danced the dance of HOT holy marys
I sang the Requiem

The boy I kissed
grew japanese Apples
and painted his collection of ROSA rugosa
DELICATE men sang of danger
Woe WAS us

I walked to the Sound of light
It didn’t MOVE
in the movie’s wilderness OF my little town

on the FLOATING prairie
gray-EYED squirrels        
naked Grass
houses moved Closer
MY mother Interpreted quality
my father sat in the bank
praying old Folksy faith
FOR somethings  Not coming

quantity was my SISters
serpents WOVE themselves into Our hair
we were nobly Poor
medusa OUR blood was magic as it poured out
we carried OUR Weapons
I sang love THAT hurts

eating cake and poor dead animals

the world is forever filled
with POOR dead animals 
                             and aunts who Wear hats for Eating cake
and husbands who ARE cold hearted killers

I knew nothing about That except
it bored me AND boredom was in
an encyclopedia of Thought
and boredom WAS a wish
NOT a question and my body
was a quotation About the world

the earth was Hot and grew  vegetables
I DID not believe in family or house
or the street Toppling over from too much sun
I did not believe and I was AN alien
dying safely in my borrowed CANCER
my mother canned Peaches and PLUMS
IN the hot august Summer that startled
the quiet and the phone Rang with a voice
on the other SIDE and the voice never
grew out of me even though I WAS
a lonely baby night of broken VIOLIN
blood crying THIN

a seagull

one bird crossed the well filled water
one bird sipped from the belly
one bird drowned in the enamel blue

one bird watched television

one bird found another bird’s breath engraved in a rock
one bird created a mud town
one bird’s voice caught in a crevice

a seagull found a drawer full of non-ocean smells
(cinnamon lavender skin)

birds don’t thank you

nomad calendars

dear  HEART I arrived
HERE in My nomad skin
Made FROM yoga
AND Tea while the FIRE
Consumes the appetite
Oxygen Is YOUR friend
Adorn it with Flowers
FAIR trade (wind) finds the VIRGIN
mary WHEN she divides
Her TIME between Poland
And Mexico embroidering
the Borders with BLOOD
And BARBED wire sometimes Soy
despite ourselves
SHE prays the HOLY word A
round AS graffiti
between saint RAIN Streets
RAILroad tracks and RIVERs
                             she Moans at night
asleep IN sequins (OR
lullabies in Holly WOOD


Mary Kasimor grew up in Minnesota and lives between Minnesota and Washington (State). She has most recently been published in the following journals: Yew Journal, Big Bridge, Reconfigurations, Moria, Otoliths, Certain Circuits, MadHat, The Bakery, Altered Scale, and Posit .  She received a Fellowship from US Poets in Mexico for the 2010 Conference. She has had several books of poetry published, most recently a chapbook, The Windows Hallucinate (LRL Textile Series, 2013). She will have a new collection of poetry published in 2014, entitled The . Landfill Dancers (BlazeVox  Books).

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