FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2014

Poetry

My Grandmother’s Sheets
- M. Bouvard
In My Sicilian Cart
- S. Buttaci
Irish Prayer
- N. Byrne
In the VA Hospital
- M. Candela
My Immigrant Grandpa’s Cottage
- A. Curran
Assurance
- F. Diamond
A Dream of Joe
- C. Dodds
He Never Shut Up
- L. Dolan
La Sicilia
- J. Going
A Kind of Sacrament
- T. Johnson
I’m Writing Brochures for Travel Companies
- M. Lisella
Grandmothers Speak
- P. McClelland
All the Way
- J. McKernan
Cahir Castle
- K. Mitchell-Garton
Return to New York
- T. Peipins
Memorabilia
- F. Polizzi
Lu Friscalettu/
The Reed Pipe
- N. Provenzano
At the Protestant Cemetery
- D. Pucciani
Evelyn McHale
- J. Raha
Gerry Summons Up The Past
- G. Sarnat
Doing Her Proud
- M. Trede
My Daughter Wears Her Evil Eye to School
- L. Wiley
Finbarr Enters the Poet’s Mind
- H. Youtt
Beyond the Animal Farm
- C. Yuan

FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2014

Prose

Plenty of Places
- A. Annesi
The Italian Cultural Garden
- M. De Julio
Dancing with the Best of Them
- J. Duncan
Doña Carmen Dreams Of San Vito 
- G. Fagiani
Stones and Roses
- J. Going
Review of Leonard Covello’s The Heart is the Teacher
- R. Holz
Crates
- J. Kierland
Review of Anthony Di Renzo’s Novella, Trinàcria: A Tale of Bourbon Sicily (Guernica, 2013)
- T. Zeppetella

Featured Artist
Andy Kover

BIOGRAPHIES

Contributors

Donna Pucciani

At the Protestant Cemetery The sky presses heavy over Rome, a bell jar of autumn humidity. Still, cafes are crowded, coffee and biscotti prevail. Blackbirds scavenge the plane trees, their chatter a darkling song. The tram trundles its human load past chiseled saints and gods muscled in marble. In the graveyard, Corso curls up near Shelley, with Keats a neighbor. They lie in wait for lightning to bloom on a cloud, for thunder to shake the limpid ivy, the last purple wisterias glowing incandescent like odd fireflies. I make this poem for you, the cat on the stone steps, and for you, Gregory, Prince of Beats, and you, John, who died of wasting sickness, for whom autumn is always a woman in love, and you, blithe Percy, who joined the wet waves of darkness too soon, unready for Neptune's lust or the sky's full-bodied rain this dark afternoon.