Felino Soriano Tribute

Spiritual
You partition these voices traveling circles in your mouth.
Record them. Hold the one hallowed whisper nearest to
your chest. Breathe well.
The screams, you bury into flame. Believe in the father’s
spectrum
of size. When leaving he is largest. Pain to augment the size
of
your disappearing safety. The city in you burns. The bodies
gray into apparitional hours. You watch to recognize past.
The silence recognizes you. The voices are perishing—the
mouth tumbling into mistaken company.
Editor’s Note: Virgil Kay, publisher of Fowlpox, sent me an e-mail exchange between
him and Felino, regarding Felino’s book:
Love the book, remembered how I took my cowboy wallet with me to the hospital, the
leather in the face of the whole thing, and we tried to work that into the layout.
Your book is very direct. Have it attached, and a jpg should you need it. I emailed the
artist/ poet who did a great portrait of you this year, and that should be your back cover.
Give me your thoughts.
He wrote back to me:
It's beautiful, Virgil, and I really like the front cover and how it coordinates with the page
color. I am honored.
Thank you, very much.
Felino