Ozymandias’ colossal wreck

(in homage to Percy Bysshe Shelley)

Serpentine trails stretch downward toward the Orinoco, 
jungled twines on the canopy of heavens.
I walk, meander in and out of dreams toward my future faith
but then the passage metamorphoses and you step forth: 
geometrical obtrusions getting in the way, I lose my path.
Home is where the heart is, but isn’t it 
the goddess of my dreams to find the rock that lay with you,
or is it me that makes reality, that makes the science of escuincles new? 

Paint the world with color bright:
I do myself that honor with archeological discoveries and bony structures 
chanced upon the hidden quarries at a vanished cave, lost to the violence of men
battling for absolute power that — like Ozymandias’ colossal wreck — lectures
destroy, forget: like your love whose fleeting absence 
I understand now will always be a transitory trick of light. 

by Ana M. Fores Tamayo

Ana M. Fores Tamayo works with asylum seekers. She advocates for marginalized refugee families from Mexico and Central America. Her labor has eased her own sense of displacement, being a child refugee, always trying to find home. In parallel, poetry is her escape: she has published in The Raving Press, Indolent Books, the Laurel Review, Shenandoah, and many other anthologies and journals, both in the US and internationally, online and in-print. Her poetry in translation with its accompanying photography has been exhibited in art fairs and galleries as well.