Mary Kasimor
i
the
windows
are searching for you in the corner--and
you cut your toe nails
the sharp edges enfolding you in blood
I
watched
maybe you have spun yourself
into a spring bird sprung
from the novel
but it was a movie--and it
should have been a novel
on the first page we were
stuck in the grip of peonies
opening their balloons
on this day in June
I wanted the taste of water that
runs deepest
the connection runs
deeper than the bird’s atmospheric
kiss--you shared the water
with me and we watched
those years together beside
the long ago garden
and a metal tree
ii
what is muddling
out frumpy unrecognizable congealed
emerging unconsolable
I am the woman who discovered
life after--
my face became stone
my eyes fire
my mouth
(chaos)
threads the snakes of medusa
§
herbs tell the blue
story
which is
passed on. by
the zone of comment
and then goes communist laying
out the views. of daisies
thistles
ants’ brains dutifully
collect. the air
bypassing the paper
work
stated as a fact
food. follows the water
streaking like a fish
the world,
may be ready for free water
(capital). as taking stock
falls below. the immortality
of babies
their luminescent
eyes mean something.
to
the communist who paints
plates and bowls of feasts
re-invented.
borrowed from before the age
of enlightenment
thus we. change the gold
into glittering stones:
something for the communing/
(ting)
non-nationalist
§
there is not
far enough I
wish I could go further
an e-mail asks for a reply
if she is
still alive
if she is
wearing clothes is
a perfect example of
things gone wrong
I’ll fly away to a place
(incognito--the smashed gnat on the ceiling)
warmth is not the answer
nor is the coldness of your skin
the climate
the orange orchards
the flowering trees
dust in my sky
let’s not go back to the hot metal thing
it smokes in every room
bowls of
fruit
cups of undipped desire
the chairs are placed strategically
we will talk about culture
and kin
the
kitchen of flavors
e-mails that dangle and tangle
masquerading as metaphor
something arcane
let it go _____________________
I wish I knew more
§
this was an awful beginning--
and awkward
what is your name?
are those your
thumbs?
your brow broods
biblical
and worried
bald head anointed
by sunshine
eastern
wind and aches
smooth out
mountains
“leaping lizards”
little orphan annie says
tall buildings excite
the future of heaven
listen to the bricks
falling
down like water
and the world engulfs
time in its arms
its elasticity holds
you together