Mary Kasimor

the green house

Share your palette with me
Maybe eat cake
Then file me away
As unaware 
Brains and nightmares dove into the past
For lack of broken words
And gravity left us alone
I am a small problem--leaking tears 
Falling off mountains
Stumbling--everyone still hides
There was never a sound between the shortage of water leaks
I will leave you whispering seasons 
I saw you once and forgave you for the accidents to nature
The child in the green house fell to the earth from the skies
Screams of pain are manufacturing reasons 
I apologize for leaving you behind 

ultramarine blue

come into my house
only small bumps welcome you
and garden tools when it closes 
its first face in a jar of stones are fragments
of songs by choice 
bread baking with loaves of yeasting
not content with buttons for food 
if there are not windows when should i look?
it was the only one salvaged from a broken morning 
it wasted no light turning it back on 
you turned and slept to alert my dreams
trembling and naked i completed the wheel
of ultramarine blue 
the air clings to itself to lost rewinding 
the long distance alone with swollen night
asking for disease
to understand and slow down
in science’s bed
i count my selves to sleep 
no one breaks us into the shadows 
lasting time has no limit 
the earth’s game of division
chose the excitement
no one’s lost 


singing alone              behind shadows

you make me                                                         open up                  words 
leaving people       behind                                       shorter than sunsets 
shorter than shadows                                              in medicated dreams
in another voice                                            on the street 
                                                                         the embroidering house hides
                                                                              gingerbread angels
  I will walk by at 2:00 am                                 to examine your sanity 

I will be digging up                                           the garden
the hollyhocks     folding                                up     in the tender air
i found it and moved it back 
                                                                             into the attic
 afraid of sleep 
 i am     forever                                                 counting    your lifetimes 
                                                                             eternal even     when god bought it out
saved the dogs                                                 and dug for the moon 
then flying into the sun                                 landing in the middle    and darkness
                                                                           caught her death 
i scattered  
                                                                      old messages never 
get old 
in the minutes                                              hold your comments please
they brought us along 
                                                                        a light got caught 
while the sun’s glamour                            bawdy sings along                                   

Mary Kasimor has been writing poetry for much of her life, and writing and revising (and what did I write?) are the most interesting parts of the processes. Her recent poetry collections include portraits in time (Trainwreck Press 2020, Disrobing Iris (above/ground press 2019) Drink Me (BlazeVox Books 2019, The Landfill Dancers (BlazeVox Books 2014), Saint Pink (Moria Books 2015), The Prometheus Collage (Locofo Press 2017), Nature Store (Dancing Girl Press 2017). Her poetry has been published in Word For/Word, Touch the Donkey, Posit, Human Repair Kit, and Otoliths.
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