Ángelo Néstore
Angelo Nestore is a non-binary artist born in Lecce (Italy) in 1986 and based in Malaga (Spain). Their theoretical and creative work explores poetic practice as a queer territory in which writing, music and performance intertwine, focusing on the relationships between body, desire and language.
Their first poetry collection, Actos impuros, won the 32nd Hiperión Prize, one of the most prestigious awards for young poetry in Spain. They have also published Hágase mi voluntad (winner of the 20th Emilio Prados International Prize) and Deseo de ser árbol (winner of the 5th Espasa Prize). Their poetry has been translated and published in the United States by Indolent Books and in Italy. In 2024, they edited Antología de poesía queer (Espasa), the first anthology of its kind in Spain.
They are the author of several performances and electro-pop tracks based on their poems, including “Poeta Cíborg Pecador” and “Incognito”.
Since 2017, they have co-directed Malaga Poetry Festival Irreconciliables, and in 2020 they founded the poetry publishing house Letraversal. They combine their artistic practice with teaching at the Faculty of Translation and Interpreting of the University of Málaga.
With Raw milk, their first novel, published in Spanish by Penguin Random House in 2025, they embark on a new stage in their artistic career.
”
En el amor, como en la escritura,
el tiempo no se invierte,
se vierte.
Impure acts
Angelo Nestore
«Impure Acts devotes itself to a brutal lyricism and edges. Despite being structured in four sections, the book can be divided into two blocks. The first delves into the corporeal cortex of someone who proclaims to belong to “a new race of men,” between the celebration of queer pride and the vindication of a “monstrous” nature that finds a correlation in the mythological minotaur. At the conclusion of Impure Acts the reader will feel moved before a brazenness that reveals itself without hinting at sensationalism, and the confirmation of witnessing the birth of a powerful voice. The Greeks called it catharsis.»
LUIS BAGUÉ QUÍLEZ, poet & critic, writing in El País
Impure acts
In the morning, I abandon my sex.
At sunset I return
when I strip to enter the shower.
My mother always says I have my father's shoulders.
With the mirror fogged with steam, my silhouette is broader, more lavish.
I draw a straight line with my fingers, wipe it out with my hand.
My eyes hold the sadness of the dolls
who played at being daughters,
which my parents wound up giving away.
The cold water brings me to my body,
I hide my penis between my legs.
Mama, who do I look like?
*translated by Lawrence Schimel
