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Sunday, March 1, 2020

Mary Kasimor - Three Poems

Mary Kasimor who has been writing poetry for many years, considers her work experimental. Her recent poetry collections are The Landfill Dancers (BlazeVox Books 2014), Saint Pink (Moria Books 2015), The Prometheus Collage (Locofo Press 2017), Nature Store (Dancing Girl Press 2017) Drink Me (BlazeVox Books 2019), and Disrobing Iris (above ground press 2019). Her poetry has been published in many journals, including Word For/Word, Touch the Donkey, Posit, Human Repair Kit, Arteidolia (collaboration with Susan Lewis), and Otoliths.


***

1. soup sound laughter

scattering tr  ue fiction. science 
is differ rent (than)   abstain ing 
from. sex    (left alone!).    in grocery 
bag   s of canned so  up sound. 
laugh   ter threads wear         ing thin 
so  metimes. a villain’s mon  o tone 
som   e times.    fleeing (the scen    e) 
it w   as worth ever    y day. 
it was a   bes t seller 
wit     h midnight. set as   ide 
for spontan   eously th inking 
(i  nside) itself.   k nowing 
nothing upro.   ots
the pall. gree       n tips 
clim   ate bed out of ((my)s.elf)
exa   mining the f   ac.t a sound 
pollu    tion. on t   he sid.ewalks 
(alone). dr owned from s .elf help 
ever   yone need   s wa. ter. 
i am. looking f or the wilderness
with my feet. in (y(    our.) vo ice 
in cycles i  cre.ate you. arou   sing 
the morn. ing   taking itsel f off.
(awa   y) wa lking to t    he last
r   e flection. the aft   erlife biting 
through. your s  kin. in thre ads 
the g  lare the mena  cing silence 
pres  sing the button.’s gaff.e.

***
2. bleached light

i am figuring                 out how to 
die. over here.          a distance
of threads              spun a chatter 
developed. rapture.     and texture
typing a novel.     in an empty chair
fatigue wringing out    fingertips.
the struggle         researches blood 
there lies a stained.                 finger
the skull awakens.     to a repetition 
bending time.             rivers of plastic        
and rust quiet.                 sky squaring 
corners                      of balloons.
another frantic field        explodes 
chatters                 into chatter. 
apples rot.                  day to day
a shadow.           stilled by a shadow
brings blue.                          news
to the still                   sculpture. breathing
lost in a breast                in bleached light 
cancer thinks.         thought impressions
push time onto           horoscopes close
to brutal force       the flat and muted baby.


***
3. a circle to explore

                                       the queen of spades knit 
all the spores on the ground
into one tragic cell
                                                green            (queen)
unbalancing                    the demands of vegetation
                          it was postpartum           arriving 
with small echoes 
of life
                                the worm manipulated      its form
                                  plato made the birds                fly
and then 
another reason 
                          to leave when the words 
fade out
while going                    somewhere we never felt the future
vaguely blue                               screams an answer
feeding                                                    my hands to the garden
i never owned  
                                            my worth
i never 
                                                 owned a circle to explore
the night plants                                                 the noise 
(north)
       our fears                                            half opening roses