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
Birdlike
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
and ROSES we BLOOM
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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