Thursday, January 27


By Stephen D’Alessio

Vito Marcantonio’s old campaign posters sit in the glass cases at the cultural center.

His cocked eyebrow and raised fist bring the fire of radicalism surging around him.

At the festa the elder right wing Italians eye his picture nervously,

craning their necks over the bottles of wine to look at the display from their table.


Triptych: Seeds; Binary; Old Growth

By Doug DeCandia

We do not talk 
about the old country

As if by erasure 
we might reckon
with that loss

It has been not yet one hundred years


When You Ask Italians to Give Up Columbus

By Jack Manno

Island people (Sicilians, Irish) are vulnerable to looters, conquerors,

Storms, imperial schemes, thugs.

Its an old story for our people; it breaks our hearts

And compromises our integrity, more; our souls.


Come Mai, Signor Cuomo?

By Peter Fortunato

Deflate that buffed chest,
lower your head,
and look at the shadow
trailing you, sir.

The rest of us see how
you have ignored
to your own peril
and immanent political demise


Un Lucchese in America

By Renzo Marcheschi
Translated from the Italian by Elena Marcheschi

Chicago, Dicembre 1969
Son qui a pensar solo soletto
alla mi’ cara Lucca e al paesetto.
La vita lontan dal tu’ paese è sempre dura
ed ogni giorno di più mi manca la mi’ città e le su’ mura.
Ci sono, è vero, qui tanti paesani,
vivon ad uscio, ma è come se fossero trecento Kilometri lontani.
Una volta di tanto li trovi, in generale,
ad uno sposalizio o ad un funerale.