threatens machinery on the prairie
—For Patricia Kasimor
MARY KASIMOR has been writing poetry for many years. Her poetry has been published in many journals, including Word For/Word, Touch the Donkey, Posit, Human Repair Kit, Arteidolia (collaboration with Susan Lewis), and Otoliths. Her recent poetry collections are The Landfill Dancers (BlazeVox Books 2014), Saint Pink (Moria Books 2015), The Prometheus Collage (Locofo Press 2017), and Nature Store (Dancing Girl Press 2017). She has a new book out published by BlazeVox Books 2019, entitled Drink Me and a chapbook published by above/ground press, entitled disrobing iris (2019). She has also been a reviewer of many small press poetry collections. Author’s note: “Growing up and as an adult, I lived in Minnesota next to other cold states; however, I have always considered North Dakota to be even colder with the winds sweeping across the plains and the prairies. I have read and imagined how difficult it was for the women pioneers, their children, and their husbands trying to survive in their sod huts and other early homes. I view sheltering as something necessary but something that we can have and lose. I live in a community with a great deal of homelessness. I often think about the precariousness of life without shelter(ing) and without using simple images, I think this poem is about easily losing the stability of tradition and shelter.”
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