FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2009

Poetry

The Shepard
- D. Bastianutti
In Grandfather's Garden (Nel Giardino del Nonno)
- L. Calio
A, E, I, O, U
- C. Carielli
Sappho Spoke for the Heartbroken
- T. Casa
Girl at the Deli
- B. Curley
Concupiscence
- L. Dolan
Caserta
- ellen
Size in Sicily(Misura in Sicilia)
- G. Fagiani
Litany of San Vito
- G. Fagiani
Legacy
- V Fazio
Descending
- D. Feela
Tasseomancy, My Grandmother and the Old Irish Art of Reading Tea Leaves
- M. Flannery
Never
- H. Fox
The Art of Giving
- K. Gerard
A Pair of Boots
- A. Guruianu
My Italian Farther Gives Birth
- J. Herman
Irish Linen
- K. Kenny
Empty Chairs
- M. Lisella
When I Lived a Short Distance Away
- K. Machan
Siren Song
- V. Maher
Montale's Lemons
- L. Mullenneaux
The Meditations of Beckett
- R. Murphy
Fear of Flying
- T. O'Connor
Zampogna
- F. Polizzi
What I Write About
- D. Pucciani
A Catalog of Irish Birds
- C. Reyes
Upon Rediscovering My Ancestors' Home In an Ancient Italian Town
- M. Saba
Thistles - Elgy for Vincent Scambray
- K. Scambray

FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2009

Prose

Oh, Glass
- R. Brown
The Summer of Love
- C. Bruni
The Doll (A Pupa)
- R. Del Borrello
Il commentario sul libro, Italia – Irlanda: Cultura e Valori (Bonanno Editore) Commentary on the book, IRELAND AND ITALY: Culture and Values (Bonanno Editore)
- E. Farinella
Review of Carol Bonomo Albright & Joanna Clapps Herman’s anthology, WILD DREAMS: The Best of Italian Americana (Fordham University Press)
- R. Holz
Bury Aunt Rosie...A Rosie by Any Other Name
- R. Junker
An Grá – Slabhra An Nádúir? (Love - A Chain of Nature?)
- M. Walsh

FEATURED ARTIST
Richard Holz

BIOGRAPHIES

Contributors

Katharyn Howd Machan

When I Lived a Short Distance Away The towers still stood. Perfect twins. The curve of bridge within their view like an Eye of Horus over water that reflected their perfect windows. Every morning I woke to them and started my litany of souls – who rode an elevator with coffee, who tossed croissant crumbs to birds. I have proof! They were photographed not long before they stopped being perfect and the long black ash blocked the air. I never climbed up into their sky, but a woman I knew told me all about it, that one night we almost spent together, her fingertips stained brilliant blue and leaving a trace on my lips.