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08-18-2025

 

Matthew Tavares

 

GALLERY FOR THE NEWLY DAMNED

 

1

 

Staring at the dead snake

on the sidewalk—intestines

fireworks in a gray fog, I realize

I am the same age as Apollinaire

when he died, choking

on his own lungs.

 

2

 

My bride bit an apple in March—

decided to walk into a forest.

Foraging for insects

and dead things to douse

her hunger; she came back

one morning during August,

through a door

crawling on all four legs.

 

3

 

I would like to give my father

the morning light in a glass

jar—painted black to reflect

nothing back to him.

But what I have are the ashes

of a clock I set on fire

to move through an empty cave.

 

4

 

There are holes in the canoe. Measure

your lungs in smoke. Rectify my burning

as your forgiveness. I have tried

to rationalize everything: we are only

so much.

 

LORCA'S PALM LEAVES

 

I traded

a handful

of weed

with a man

begging

on the street

for a palm cross

that looked

like Lorca

 

though a heart

not Jesus

was nailed

to the cross

and a rose

not blood

centered

this symbol

of surrender

 

yet still

I thought

of Jesus

as he walked

into Jerusalem

the palm leaves

under his feet

yet still

I thought

of Lorca

crucified

on a hillside

his heart

made of leaves

tossed

into the wind

 

and now

the man

finding shade

under a tree

weaves my sins

in exchange

for something

that will only

amplify

the hunger

 

IN SEARCH OF VENUSIAN OCEANS

 

It takes thousands of years

of rainfall to produce an ocean.

 

Which makes me think of all

the lifetimes found in a wave

 

which makes me feel closer

to my own reckoning.

 

I imagine the places

my consciousness could end up:

 

a grove of orange trees

a stone beneath a waterfall—

but how often do we end

where we began.

 

There was once a time

when we believed oceans

 

adorned the planet Venus,

but science

 

as with all our greatest stories,

has corrupted this too.

 

How I could reawaken there

surrounded by ancient rains,

 

how I could walk head down

against the waves in one direction

 

and always end up somewhere else.

-from IN SEARCH OF VENUSIAN OCEANS, celebrated with the author's permission and selected by PoemoftheWeek.com Founder and Editor, Andrew McFadyen-Ketchum

Matthew Tavares is the author of the chapbook In Search of Venusian Oceans (Defunkt Press). His work has appeared in High Noon, Texas Books in Review, Windward Review, and CAGIBI. He holds an MFA in Creative Writing, English Literature, and Social Justice from Our Lady of the Lake University. He is currently a high school English teacher, and a Lecturer of English. 

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