Poetry from Angel Dominguez
Scorpio Somnambulism
Every morning
I wake with more poetry
sloshing around a somnambulant
fog; every morning I whittle
excess; I sharpen the sensations; I
hum tears of moonlight to the dead
when it is morning, I hold the moon
in my sternum; I peak light
from my pores; I write.
another apocalypse throwback
The woods continue to harbor the spirit realm the trees still speak to one another underground, where they remember what we used to be; finally we are giving back to the soil, and thereby the planet, a timeline at a time; may the body be shed, biology is only one surface in a spectrum, condense your energy; if you’re always focused on the body you’ll always be hungry.
Still there’s something else there in the woods of your heart how that organ holds sermons and séances every other day you wake with more weight in your chest you wake with more time tied to you the body has always been a distraction, what would you do if you were only energy,
what would you give yourself to?
Angel Dominguez is a Latinx poet and performance artist of Yucatec Mayan descent; the author of Desgraciado (Econo Textual Objects, 2017), and Black Lavender Milk (Timeless Infinite Light, 2015). His work can be found in Brooklyn Magazine; FENCE; Queen Mobs Teahouse; The Wanderer and elsewhere in print, or on the internet. Follow him on Twitter @dandelionglitch or irl in the redwoods, or ocean.
