Matthea Harvey, this year’s winner of the Claremont Graduate University’s Kingsley Tufts Award, is author of three books of poetry and a teacher of poetry at Sarah Lawrence. She stopped by Zócalo’s offices to read from Modern Life
To read the poem, follow the link below.
Terror of the Future/1
If you had a talent for tealeaves,
we put you in a tent and charged
admission. Outside, people with syringes
in their arms swayed sleepily in the summer wind.
The shoe trees at home would preserve
our foot-shapes. Dried skim milk had an excellent
shelflife and the safe was rustproof, so we
scattered–made the rounds of hotels,
ordered room service and tried not to recollect
our children’s quizzical looks as we showed them
the jar of quarters then locked the front door.
The polls showed no one wanted to proceed
alphabetically anymore. We were pioneers,
and we thought we might make our way back
to paradise if we spoke in the past perfect
tense. Quick as a nod, it was October
and the nectar was gone. The myocardiograph
measured our heartache and it was more
than the manuals said we could manage.
We positioned the lightship near the lemming cliff
and waited. I put on my kickpleat skirt
(best for jumping) and walked along the isthmus
looking at the icy waves. Others decided
it was high time to hike the Himalayas.
For the first time, there was goodwill
in the goldfields, across the globe.
Then the last gasps in the garage.
