Ana Fores Tamayo
43 versos
angels of the Mexican graveyards wander the earth
yielding their strength to struggle
onward. These 43 boys,
they are silenced before rising screams,
zoning into Cocula, a trap. On their buses,
igniting inferno! Angels glow so we might find them.
never is too harsh a word, too strong a word, too heartless.
appearances mean nothing, as many years have now come to pass.
palpable is the fear of death for these angels; suffering is their families’ lot.
anger is the cry of their Mexican people longing for truth.
entangled deceptions from the Mexican government, years become thousands of
lifetimes in Ayotzinapa, in Mexico, in the world.
lost to the meandering pathways,
objecting to lies, to murders, to forced disappearances!
senseless anomalies: 25 thousand, 100 thousand! How many more?
never will the government give us the truth, but
oh, their convenient stories, their forsaken lies.
some say these boys are dead; their mothers weep, wanting their sons back
alive, not a creation of death
but the truth of them, all flesh and blood, the beautiful
indigenous of Ayotzinapa, of Iguala, Guerrero, Mexico. Not
a living phantasmagoric
nightmare, but real—not illogical death—.
queer happenings in that long night that lasted forever.
unalterable, the 43 could take no cover from that gunfire & rain,
escaping under buses, hiding in hospital nooks.
energies exhausted, vacant, yet
raw and visceral too: we grieve still for the 43,
amidst more dreaded deaths, countless forced disappearances,
mostly
official government lies and corruption,
stolen from the official book called “historical truth.”
smooth soft sound like a muted lament…Mexico’s lies
emerge inconsistently. Shock from the
memory of tortured howls, of intolerable
inequalities: American & Mexican rich against brown and poor.
learning each falsehood of the government’s lies:
labeling the indefensible, the egregious, the unforgivable.
abhorrent, pelting deceptions, these boys are forever
silenced: yet through infinity, they plead for truth—
¡Ayotzinapa! ellos no sabían que éramos semillas.
Ayotzinapa! They did not know we were seeds.
We 43, we millions.
Poems by Ana Fores Tamayo have appeared in Acentos Review, The Raving Press, Rigorous, Chaleur Magazine, Memoir, Poxo Press, Chachalaca Review, The Evansville Review, K’in, Laurel Review, Down in the Dirt, Twist in Time, Selcouth Station, and Fron//tera, among other journals. Her poems have also appeared in the anthologies Poets Facing The Wall (The Raving Press, 2018), edited by Gabriel H. Sanchez; The Spirit It Travels: An Anthology of Transcendent Poetry (Cosmographia Books, 2019), edited by Nina Alvarez; and The Sixty-Four Best Poets of 2018 (Black Mountain Press), edited by Carlos Steward. Her photography has appeared in journals and has been exhibited in shows, often displayed along with her poetry.
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