A couple of poems from Neither Seen nor Heard

Mutt Bitch

It’s not easy being an angry poet
when you come from a culture
whose most profound statement of anger
is silence.
No one knows
what you’re talking about.
No one knows
what your problem is.
No one believes you.
A poem needs a lot of explaining
but refuses to do it itself.
It expects the culture
to back it up.
If I have no culture
I can say nothing;
therefore, if I
say nothing,
I have no culture.

I’m Neapolitan

on my father’s side,
Sicilian on my
mother’s side.
After my mother died,
when I was eight years
old, my mother’s people
slowly faded away.
I grew up
in a Neapolitan family,
always silently
defending Sicilians.
(Sicilians were
my sainted mother.)
If I misbehaved
or did something
stupid, it was because
I’m Sicilian.
I don’t remember
ever doing anything
that got me called
Italian. I grew up
thinking Naples
is in Northern Italy.

Sicilians don’t want

me, either.
The few words
of Italian I know
are all Neapolitan.
I’m not serious
enough. I’m not
oppressed enough. I
haven’t been conquered
enough. I’m not Olive
enough. I may as well
be Italian. Don’t say
Neapolitan–say
Italian. Remember
the Renaissance. Remember
how Italy saved Europe
by inventing art
and science. (Don’t say
Florence.) But my guts—
what do I do with my guts?
 
Non-Italians don’t know
what I’m talking about.
They think I’m weird.
They think the only
difference, if
there is any, between
Italians and Sicilians,
is that, unlike Italians
(who aren’t too bright,
either), Sicilians make pizza
the way morons make
wheels.
 
So much for that problem.
Now, maybe I’ve had
some inconveniences
as an Italian,
but if I changed
my name, dropped
the vowel, the barriers
would fall with it.
I’d have nothing
to lose.
If I ever felt
lonely, I could
go to the supermarket
and fill my cart
with cans of
spaghetti and meatballs
and no one would
suspect a thing.
 
Maybe it’s time to take inventory.
I’m a woman.
I’m a contessa
on my father’s side,
contadina on my
mother’s side.
I’ve got a
high school equivalency diploma
and an associate’s degree
in liberal arts.
I’m a skilled blue collar worker.
I’m a published poet.
I’ve got a Brooklyn accent
with Italian gestures.
I’m a dyke.
I’m a single working mother.
All this stuff doesn’t add up to
just
one
person.

Fuck it.

++++++++++

The Fly

Giovanni de’Medici,

the first of the branch
of the Medici family
that produced Lorenzo
who almost single-handedly
produced the renaissance
in Florence,
advised his descendants—
“Be as inconspicuous as possible.”

This guy sounds like my father.

The first 16 years of my life,
I learned only two Neapolitan phrases—
assiettete
and statte zitte.
I’m standing now and I’m speaking.

Lesbians are not womanly enough,

not Madonna or puttana enough,
to be recognized by the Italian-
American community.
Italians are not Olive enough,
not light or dark enough,
to be recognized by the American
Lesbian community.
I’m standing now and I’m speaking
yet I am neither seen nor heard.

I’m a Sicilian-Italian-American Lesbian,

the scum of the scum of the scum,
forgotten by those who scream
in protest because they are
forgotten,
and I am neither seen nor heard.

Sicilians tell their children—
“A fly doesn’t enter a closed mouth.”
I’m standing now and I’m
telling the Sicilians,
the Italians,
and the Lesbians—
You can’t spit a fly
out of a closed mouth.

Neither Seen nor Heard is now available

malafemmina press announces her second book:

Neither Seen nor Heard, poetry by Rose Romano




Neither Seen nor Heard, Romano’s third book of poetry, includes all the poems from Vendetta and The Wop Factor (both published by malafemmina press), plus many poems published in various literary journals and a few published here for the first time.

Rose Romano is an Italian-American living in Italy for several years. In the United States, she published a literary journal, la bella figura, and founded malafemmina press, publishing only the work of Italian-Americans. Her books of poetry (Vendetta and The Wop Factor) and her anthology (La bella figura: a choice, also published by malafemmina press) are included in the collections of many public and university libraries. Her work has been taught at universities in the United States and Canada. She organized and participated in poetry readings and book presentations in the United States, Canada, and Italy.

A copy can be purchased by clicking on:

www.createspace.com/6266104

 

Three books from Maria Pallotta-Chiarolli

Tapestry
This is Maria's exploration of the tapestry embroidered from five generations of women and men in her family, from the turn of the twentieth century to its final years, from the poor villages of Italy to the cities of Australia, and back to a nineties Italy that is both alien and home.

Someone you know: A friend’s farewell
A semi-autobiographical book, Someone You Know (Adelaide: Wakefield Press, 1991; new edition 2002) was Australia's first AIDS biography. All royalties donated to Bobby Goldsmith Foundation for People Living With AIDS.
Love you two
Pina's friends think she's lucky. How many families get along the way hers does - how many parents are as free-spirited and happy as hers? But sometimes Pina wonders who the grown-up is - her or her mother. Then a chance glimpse at an email unravels what Pina thought she knew about life and love. Can her family survive what she has discovered? And what does it all mean for Pina's own life? Two siblings, two boys, two cities, three generations, four friends. How many versions of the truth?

+ + +

Dr. Maria Pallotta-Chiarolli has gained national and international recognition as a writer, researcher, lecturer and consultant in the issues of cultural diversity, gender diversity, sexual diversity, family diversity, HIV/AIDS, and social diversity in health and education, with a specific focu on adolescence and young people.

+ + +

If you’re one of those people (which would be all of us) who belong to more than one category, you’ll find recognition, understanding, and confirmation in Maria’s work.

All three books, and others, are available on Amazon.

You'll never have me like you want me -- is now available

You'll never have me like you want me

by Rose Romano

(ISBN-13: 979-1220009928)

is now available. To purchase a copy, just go to

www.createspace.com/6117360

All the information is there.

CreateSpace, a part of Amazon.com, is the printer/distributor. malafemmina press is the publisher.

From the back cover:

 

When Emilia realizes what Italy means, she decides to keep a journal.

As an Italian-American who lived all her life in Brooklyn, Emilia goes to Italy because she wants to live in the only place in the world where it's normal to be Italian. She doesn't speak Italian well and isn't familiar with the laws. Although she has Italian citizenship, she can't get real help from her psychologist or her social worker. Her life gets smaller and smaller. Her chances get slimmer and slimmer.

The solution to all her problems appears in an unexpected flash.

 

Rose Romano is an Italian-American living in Italy for several years. In the United States, she published a literary journal, la bella figura, and founded malafemmina press, publishing only the work of Italian-Americans. Her books of poetry (Vendetta and The Wop Factor) and her anthology (la bella figura: a choice) are included in the collections of many public and university libraries. Her work has been taught at universities in the United States and Canada. She has organized and participated in poetry readings and book presentations in the United States, Canada, and Italy.

 

The next book (Neither Seen nor Heard) is expected in July.