Mary Kasimor
 

Three Poems

 
 
 
 
 

into a blazing wind ragged            hills stretching straight the truth                                 we’re all from the planet                     and saved      I saved myself                  like I saved the coupons       you saved         the future in the parking lot     it’s all yours                you belong here and here     devour                     another fitful handful                                    of rueful wordy               roots beginning with a turnip   you can’t lie about this                      how does it taste?             a mouthful of earth               is a human possibility      like peeing                         into a pot to prove the truth        refocus      it’s all here            the magnolias grow somewhere                 else      we speak in seeded         carrots flowering and disbursing secrets                                    about us               because we can’t be anywhere else            or imagine any other disturbance in the horizon                 we are flattened and roll in the hay       in the north         wind blowing ice out of my nose into the old                house     I can never warm myself until             spring stretches out its spine      and mud        reptile cold      clutching a deer bagged wind   *** winds crossing over the bridge so they heard      graffiti’s noise                            underneath a highway empties into the middle also:               a sleeping bag a dog in the river anointed for today belly up            in the water our bodies don’t need bones but are left behind to help          the earth rhyme bitter coffee brains        ache noise in the night is louder down by the river in the morning’s         sweet sex            moves like a star *** old growth dirt     ensconced in eden-thin tree    king thoughts hard wood never ending     strip malls             a total of chocolate and silky// underpants enough escapes       possible try counting them posturing      the dunes are thighs left//of the parking lots celebrating phantom-bodies eat phantom wheat           eating colossus//meals and shelving of sacrifice the ideas for someone are random        love counts as missed//bleeping red lights         the friendliest constituent more stuff           and let us choose hope//hoping all along that blood stripped        the land is giving//back more charity is// red dirt is something//           stained is// ice

  (c)Kasimor 2005