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  November 2016
volume 13 number 2
-table of contents-
  home   (archived)
  contributing poets
  Inalegwu Omapada Alifa
  Maria A Arana
  Shawn Aveningo
  Wendy Bourke
  Jack G. Bowman
  Alan Britt
  Adam Levon Brown
  Jeffrey Bryant
  Don Kingfisher Campbell
  Alicia Carpenter
  Natalie Crick
  Carla Criscuolo
  Frank De Canio
  Marvin Louis Dorsey
  Miguel Eichelberger
  John LaMar Elison
  Gabriella Garofalo
  Dave Houston
  Dani Raschel Jiménez
  Scott C. Kaestner
  Sofia Kioroglou
  Deborah P Kolodji
  Rick Lupert
  Donal Mahoney
  Afric McGlinchey
  Frank Mundo
  Chika Onyenezi
  Adam Phillips
  Bethany W Pope
  Nydia Rojas
  Diana Rosen
  Walter Ruhlmann
  Papa Vic
  mailing list
Gabriella Garofalo
November 2016



photo by marie c lecrivain

    Born in Italy some decades ago, Gabriella Garofalo fell in love with the English language at six, started writing poems (in Italian) at six and is the author of Lo sguardo di Orfeo, L'inverno di vetro, Di altre stelle polari, and Blue branches.



Hey Rapture

Hey rapture,
Is the master of silence still lost?
Why then those jerks keep babbling
That sea is something of its kind?
And why you keep nagging death?
She's busy, high time to learn the dirty job, soul --
Before you even existed desert was:
No men, no trees, only desert land
When you came to join the posse -
Don't you realise soul and lovers
Are but rebel teens?
You say you'll pay us, sure,
Pay with blue and desert words -
Look, just for once, just for a change,
Stop that darned blue
Stay silent and pay -
Begetter, your quest for flowers
Can't be an even match,
They are barehanded.

copyright 2016 Gabriella Garofalo