The respectable face, has an air of concrete.
Somehow, the lassitude of a greater
Era pulls out the source of memory.
The wild water surges up, the desert covers
skin and hope and us. This black lung
of a man holds a woman losing
happier to be crunched.
Cry out to the shape
rounded sorrow of my waist,
Hands are dull as walls
must never burst
far away love of stars
are beneath us. Who would wail
into the pitch tiny corners willingly?
Dark soul lost to mother’s
Brave bronze woman
reversing and riotess
without her symmetry.
A sister fills another sister’s
head. It is the moment for us
to break and kill to soar
swollen into the meridian,
the tropics. Fists in
fight, a scent like
Stone Moon Mother
While they lay, my mother
fathers the fickle womb,
its lone stark rath
now lent, to reason.
Prayed upon by calendars
of stone, unwounds
the sickle of canyons
Bind this righteous hollow night,
it is mine. This undenying gut,
her unwatered cares.
Mine, this candle flickering and vain.
This home out of town. Like sin
abides this fire mine.
A Daughter Learns, To Own a Rifle
I could never watch him with a grin,
but the sputtering light of fire,
of midnight and monsters, helped me imagine
how he’d look soft spoken.
The day has spread
thin and vibrant.
Far from union-
city, pagans hold
it down. My mother
grips a rifle in her lap,
polished as the kitchen floor.
Unused for over thirteen years.
I am quiet. Forgetting she ever had
a pair of ovaries, is pussy-less.
Where have I been, and how come
we never lost,
About Silvia Angulo: Born in the Dominican Republic. Raised in New York. Silvia Angulo went to film school yet found herself cutting classes to attend rallies and Occupy Wall Street where she befriended street artists, leftists, and wrote too many protest poems. She ultimately did graduate with a BFA and moved to California to work in post production, but then quit the industry immediately. She presently works at a non-profit, is back in school for community justice, organizes with Af3irm National, and identifies as a transnational feminist, mujerista, and anarcho-syndicalist. Her writing has appeared in Feminist Wire, Bitch, Haggard & Halloo, La Galeria, Brasilia Review, and Fish Creek Press among others.