‘July’, ‘August’, ‘Extended Summer’ & ‘Lovers’
Jules Brassard: His artistic approach is a world of spontaneity and reality. Primarily focused on street and event photography, humans remain his main subject. He likes to convey emotions through his photographs, to convey moments of sharing, laughter, joy, sorrow... all these emotions that make us all human. These spontaneous moments where we reveal ourselves to others without a mask, without a filter.
<july>
i remind myself magic is realer than evil
but this is impossible to prove
so we comfort our cages + bellies
with laughter or seasonally decorated
blankets
get cozy my lover,
i whisper to the hair clumps on my shoulder
growing despite the burning cream
my healing lower back scratches protest
dancing under hot water
to open the wound
grinding absence of bone on uncovered shin
bitten by every angry fly
close enough to smell my meat
the goats + i influence each other
tails wagging against greenery
guilt is familial
(the concept of comfort)
worn tightly around the index finger
or wrapped elegantly in a modern knot
at the throat
i let you bleed the sad out of me
watch as u suck the bitter into ur mouth
contorting ur body to access the wound
cautiously spitting over the shoulder
to ward off unpleasantness
while i feed local ghosts tobacco
from my backseat lungs
contaminated knee circle
i look for the familiar fungus beneath a tree
to eat + bury the ache
i steal air from my lungs
let it sizzle until keeping it so
i’m sure fire still exists
cicadas scream desperate to be fucked but
i can’t relate
<august>
after Kristin Lueke
i carry childhood icons beneath a bloodied tooth
always remembering ur gentle wrinkles
at the outset,
reminding me of my own
well-fitting ugly shift dress
ripping in a different era
the cost of adoration is to be bleached by the sun
over years of stickyfingered longing
daughter behaving daughterlessly
legs sitting, crossed
in stomach acid
my calves sizzle
drawstring belly tight
like fresh leather redemption
thick skinnnnnnnnnnn
juicy cabbage breath i overextend
ignorant of sore, bloody
knucklemesh
i only love the hot neck of summer
split open on the pavement
gushing forgotten ancestral guilt,
damp rings + palms searching
for the cold sheet (a promise)
that change will always be
familiar in its terror
<extended summer>
small window to another dimension
worn on the tops of my hands
like a spell
i cried so hard my eyelids flipped up
all capillaries + inflammation +
salty sopping wet
there’s always an escape //
basil hands rubbed on a horrid body
i sense suspicion + potential
but i imagine -
youth
high on a nauseous rooftop
potential or friendship or accolades
in a stolen legal envelope
like an unexpected chewing gum kiss
she asked what i tasted,
surprised when i revealed my secret smell
(i stink like the foil pull out
on a new pack of parliments
recessed filter)
music notes stumbling down my leg
hair, the sound numbing +
deep in my infection
// //
the following stage means violence
begging or wool slippers
stuck to the screen
windows guide the dirty velvet
swallowing lightning shirtless
lip catching on a broken tooth
we watch the flesh tear
in warm silence
hot air holding breath
between us
<lovers>
sometimes i’m perfectly mismatched
my torso a cavern of angles + stones
pleasantly vintage + often musty
w/ nostalgia
(like a terry gilliam cartoon)
heavy patterns pull my eyes
to wave pools thriving in my belly button
protected by rows of hearty leaves
my flowering heart remains
billowing + unfinished
clavicle moons reminiscent
of a moment wrapped at the hip + spilled
like cereal milk or episodic fixations
playing doctor w/ the neighbors
wrapping broken twigs
clutching math homework
peelable polish
how crawling is movement
i cut away scars on my palms
glowing like a misspelled word
i wonder if the sizzle b/w synapses
is enough burn to light by when
no one admits
a sword laid upon the weight of trust
is thicker than the steel it yields
Sara Matson’s poetry can be found in Impossible Task, The Chicago Reader, Kicking Your Ass, Bone Bouquet, and elsewhere. Sara’s recent chapbook, (Women) In STEM is available from Bottlecap Press and her pop-culture inspired chapbook Special Features: DVD Poems is available from Alien Buddha Press. Sara hosts the seasonal online reading series Words // Friends + can be found on Instagram @skeletorsmom and Bluesky @saramatson.bsky.social. More of Sara’s poetry can be found at https://linktr.ee/saramatson
