woman #12

 

I landed on my toes all alike and

applauded. my bravery

then my right eye seeing

more toes collected underfoot.

my posture

changed and I chanted more

chants more square prairie. in this

longitude

I could go anywhere and understand

everything caught in the throat—

another noted measured out. the beet

sugar

sweetened even the shrillest money

and liberated toes exulted. in their

emptiness unfilled vessels

travel across the Dakotas to the ends

of Stearns. County to fingers of thought—

nothing thinks here. but restless

water keeps moving the water

about water through. the window

and onto the bed

the newspapers claimed. the news

and the owners were derelict

landlords. claiming the funnel

dance in the book of discord

 

Mary Kasimor