"Ancient Dreams" by Alexey Adonin
I Thought It Was a Dream by travis tate
after Maggie Rogers
& I walked off an old me,
into the belly of something
new, like sharp glass sitting
on the concrete, something
hard against something hard.
I walked from Texas to New
York. I whistled to a tune.
I marched in the field of
weathered green. I walked
to the Desire Field. I walked
Brooklyn to Brooklyn to
the walls of a pink room.
I moved out of myself
into a being, fresh & crisp
like the dying of a star.
I am new, I say, to all the
ripe fruit, to the lemon tree,
to a dried cactus on the side
of the road. I went bankrupt
for love. & look, Oh god,
I'm right here, making what
is new plain, what is needed
is made from pressing my
hands against left side of ribs,
a prayer to Eve. I'm so great
at walking, pushing the body
along to its final destination,
talking to the supple ground,
saying, Oh, I'll be with you
someday. How my feet cry
out in the summer to be
released. I walking to the
drumming of the old men
in Trinidad who call my
name out to the ocean,
out to the ferry pulling
into the harbor with
fresh fish. I walk the
sea's templed floor,
retrieving our bodies,
sacred temples bounded.
I walk until I meet Tituba.
She gives me new hands.
I raise to the sun
& I am healed.
I wander the edges
of my light,
recharge on the moon,
lick my lips midday,
answer placed in
my wide stomach.
I learn to walk with
the devil, just for fun.
I eat the music
of lust, of terrible
longing. I am the
feet of some mighty
ancient thing,
slipping between
thrones & blood.
I am trying to find
my way to this
bleating heart.
& I'm walking still.
& I walked off an old me,
into the belly of something
new, like sharp glass sitting
on the concrete, something
hard against something hard.
I walked from Texas to New
York. I whistled to a tune.
I marched in the field of
weathered green. I walked
to the Desire Field. I walked
Brooklyn to Brooklyn to
the walls of a pink room.
I moved out of myself
into a being, fresh & crisp
like the dying of a star.
I am new, I say, to all the
ripe fruit, to the lemon tree,
to a dried cactus on the side
of the road. I went bankrupt
for love. & look, Oh god,
I'm right here, making what
is new plain, what is needed
is made from pressing my
hands against left side of ribs,
a prayer to Eve. I'm so great
at walking, pushing the body
along to its final destination,
talking to the supple ground,
saying, Oh, I'll be with you
someday. How my feet cry
out in the summer to be
released. I walking to the
drumming of the old men
in Trinidad who call my
name out to the ocean,
out to the ferry pulling
into the harbor with
fresh fish. I walk the
sea's templed floor,
retrieving our bodies,
sacred temples bounded.
I walk until I meet Tituba.
She gives me new hands.
I raise to the sun
& I am healed.
I wander the edges
of my light,
recharge on the moon,
lick my lips midday,
answer placed in
my wide stomach.
I learn to walk with
the devil, just for fun.
I eat the music
of lust, of terrible
longing. I am the
feet of some mighty
ancient thing,
slipping between
thrones & blood.
I am trying to find
my way to this
bleating heart.
& I'm walking still.
travis tate is a queer, black playwright, poet and performer from Austin, Texas. Their poetry has appeared in Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Underblong, Mr. Ma’am, apt, and Cosmonaut Avenue among other journals. Maiden, their debut poetry collection, is out on V.A. Press. They earned an MFA from the Michener Center for Writers. You can find more about them at travisltate.com.
Alexey Adonin is a Jerusalem based abstract-surrealist artist. His works have been showcased locally and internationally and are held in private collections around the world. Alexey uses a unique and beautiful technique in which he layers oil paints solely on top of one another to create a mystical, transparent look. His philosophy stems from the idea that one's reality is made up of what they believe it to be. Alexey uses his art as a platform to express his profound ideas about reality, humanity, and their intertwined behaviors. You can view more at www.alexeyadoninart.com.
