East of Wyoming, I Remember Matthew Shepherd

^{After The Entombment by Raphael}

The night my father died, I sat on a stool 
          at the Buckhorn, gazing
                     out the window’s cool counter seat. 
Like a funhouse mirror, you appeared. 
          I have a familiar-looking face; my father used to say—
                     his wish for me to blend in. 
Late after an argument, I fled 
          and was found bound to a prairie fence 
                     after eighteen hours.
My body is like a sock in the wind 
          in a field just a mile from here. 
                     My face blooms, velvety 
and light like a lamb’s ear, 
          stachys byzantina; my ears 
                     frozen with blood; down 
my neck, it goes. A medley of ants shuffles 
          away. My body is rich with the sour smell 
                     of urine on my head like a crown of daffodils. 

Copyright © 2023 by Ruben Quesada. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 27, 2023, by the Academy of American Poets. 

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“The tragic account of Matthew Shepherd’s hate crime murder in 1998 is linked with the visual and emotional cues from Raphael’s masterpiece The Entombment. The painting, which depicts Christ’s solemn burial, is a profound parallel between Shepherd’s tragic end and the LGBTQIA+ community’s grief. My poem is an homage to Shepherd and a reflection on the ongoing battle for equality and acceptance that marginalized people continue to fight.”
—Ruben Quesada