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Saturday, November 05, 2016

The Sunday Poet: Karen Locascio








Karen Locascio is a graduate of the MFA program at UMass, Boston, where she won an Academy of American Poets prize. Her work has appeared in Paper Nautilus, Cider Press Review, and Window Cat Press, among others, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her debut collection, May All My Wounds Be Mortal, won the first Ron Schreiber Poetry Prize and will be published by Hanging Loose Press in early 2017. In her spare time, Karen enjoys genealogy research and fantasy football, and reads submissions for Spry Literary Journal. Originally from New Jersey, Karen currently lives in Dorchester.






The Fool


I dream you swoop in
on wings I can’t see. You burn
off like dust on a candle,
my skeleton radiating
hypnotic from my breastbone.
You’re better as visitation
or morning sickness,
and me as a padded room,
a concavity.

Flip the shell.
Pick a card, any card.
I’ll break a plate
then the sky. Rain, rain…
The sperm is rain,
the rain is sperm.

The ovum’s the only human cell
visible to the naked eye.
I’ve got cavities in my ovaries
and sperm in my mouth.
When you tell me to leave, you mean it
half the time. You slap me
on the ass, chain-smoking,
sink full of empties.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous2:29 PM

    Anxiously waiting for the mortal wounds to make it through the Atlantic into British soil. Loving Karen Locascio.

    ReplyDelete