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Spring 2011


- R. Baldasty
Beloved Albatross
- D. Bastianutti
From Trã Bãn
- K. Cain
The Current (La Corrente)
- L. Calio
Down with the King
- M. Cirelli
May Mass – 1957
- L. Dolan
- G. Fagiani
Persephone’s Devotion to Her Mother
- M. Fazio
- V. Fazio
- D. Festa
L’Amour, L’Amour on Summer Afternoons (L’Amour, L’Amour D’estati Filuvespiri)
- M. Frasca
- S. Jackson
- W.F. Lantry
Little Swift
- R. León
Since You Asked
- M. Lisella
Dublin 2010
- V. Maher
39 Fifth Avenue
- C. Matos
Sunrise in Sicily
- A. O’Donnell
Watching Monzú at Work
- F. Polizzi
L’incontru (Rendezvous)
- N. Provenzano
Propriu Quannu Sta Scurannu (When the Day Is Almost Over)
- N. Provenzano
Bones (Le Ossa)
- D. Pucciani
- E. Swados
Mount Etna
- G. Syverson
Poet Jack Foley Says, “We’re Not Writing for Eternity
- J. Wells
Lord of Winter
- A. Zanelli

Gilda Morina Syverson

Mount Etna

My stomach, like a volcano, churns,
burns, spews pain and bitter acid
up the esophagus, down the intestines.

Memories of high school, the corner
of James & Plymouth, the city bus,
barely making it to school.

Sometimes I’d get off, hide behind
bushes or large oaks, expel
yellow bile rumbling inside.

How do the genetics of a volcano
become my biology? Why do flames
of flesh erupt inside?

One day I walked down Townsend
to my maternal grandparents house
in the Italian North Side.

Nonna poured a shot of Anisette
into my mouth. It flowed smoothly,
settled like cooled magma.

My mother’s family came from
Linguaglossa, a village near Mount Etna.
I’ve visited there three times.

Above my head spattered sizzling red,
fragments of blistered sounds rumbled.
Gray gates of lava divided the land.

Sulfurous gasses covered the earth.