Mary Kasimor

the future is in Barcelona

The pen works. See. It makes up ideas; later pictures fall off the wall. The ideas could be found in any cereal box. I fell into a dream & then I fell off the earth & kept falling. The building held important drawers to my lives; unraveling the addiction & falling out of the air, the government’s image aided my vocabulary. I was a speculative fool more so than others. The nation leaked pious families & mickey mouse’s ears were the future’s deception. But we gamble with deadlines. The future is clear in Barcelona. There were two trillion protesters from the next decade, & little churches grew refugee camping; anti-hierarchical the dancers gave birth. To comply with the sun everyone gave arguments to exist in prophesy, but grassroots sprouted monkeys. Stop the alarm. Why mess with shipping? The equipment embraces the wrongdoers & someday everyone will know 

***

the western

the east tastes of vinegar tight-

lipped &

sour apples

no woman need apply

scientific oppression approached

each

beauty

from a bounty of speed

the galloping

horses frozen in steel

she vanished for good

she argued

for width

in the movies she climbed out

windows claimed herself

a heart warm

slovenly morning

out the window to

the west she left

a sense of space she

left a witness

walking on sand & swamp

& lakes

& cornfields

to the furthest

place to the fabric torn

the continuity

of any

herself

a pattern to the west paper-

doll shadows

with north poles separating each

piece of her

she grew

antennas & a force of

nature she disappeared

into a digital

heart

the edited movie of the west

***

black swans in rain

if so          dying    the

smudge         is

objectified       and falls

rain     against      blank

faces a                 city

travels through       air

not       trees but    many

bodies left      fragments

rain                      clusters

forgotten     light    black

swans and             gray

order                   forced acres

if                pollution stars

and      wings           let

go      to fall         wet

like      word smears

simultaneously       luminous

seasons in         overnight heavy

doors                  and laws  

forced               between needing

more        we meant

more pronunciation       more we

chose                like     gods

to         die in       triangles

like dogs           heaps

from these              meanings of

co-habitation       out from

life      to dwell   through     

symbols and          windows 

we        pressed       for

distress        of       what was

never found         in    an absent

train      seats             coins

and        rain soaked

***

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