FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2011

Poetry

Ancestors
- R. Baldasty
Beloved Albatross
- D. Bastianutti
From Trã Bãn
- K. Cain
The Current (La Corrente)
- L. Calio
Down with the King
- M. Cirelli
May Mass – 1957
- L. Dolan
America
- G. Fagiani
Persephone’s Devotion to Her Mother
- M. Fazio
Bastardu
- V. Fazio
Christmas
- D. Festa
L’Amour, L’Amour on Summer Afternoons (L’Amour, L’Amour D’estati Filuvespiri)
- M. Frasca
Sgrìob
- S. Jackson
Sirocco
- W.F. Lantry
Little Swift
- R. León
Since You Asked
- M. Lisella
Dublin 2010
- V. Maher
39 Fifth Avenue
- C. Matos
Sunrise in Sicily
- A. O’Donnell
Watching Monzú at Work
- F. Polizzi
L’incontru (Rendezvous)
- N. Provenzano
Propriu Quannu Sta Scurannu (When the Day Is Almost Over)
- N. Provenzano
Bones (Le Ossa)
- D. Pucciani
Things
- E. Swados
Mount Etna
- G. Syverson
Poet Jack Foley Says, “We’re Not Writing for Eternity
- J. Wells
Lord of Winter
- A. Zanelli

FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2011

Prose

Review of Frank Ingrasciotta’s play, BLOOD TYPE RAGU
- L. Calio
Dinner for Three
- D. De Santis
Notes
- A. Guruianu
Review of Carol Bonomo Albright & Christine Palamidessi Moore’s anthology, AMERICAN WOMAN, ITALIAN STYLE
- R. Holz
Review of Joanna Clapps Herman’s memoir, THE ANARCHIST BASTARD, GROWING UP ITALIAN IN AMERICA
- R. Holz
Exiles in the Lost World of Italian Food in America. Review of Anthony Di Renzo’s BITTER GREENS
- M. Lisella
Reverbs
- A. Morazán
The Bearded Woman of Inis Mor
- D. Schummer

Featured Artists
Andy Kover

Richard Holz

BIOGRAPHIES

Contributors

Maria Lisella

Since You Asked I am from dank wine cellars in South Jamaica. From cousins named Johnny, Joey, Nicky and Frankie who harvested Queens grapes. I am from a line of women sporting artichoke haircuts and pink collars. I am also from a Carmine Street tenement that lost its address in the last century. I am from the mind of a man who sent other men to the moon. From a red-shingled house that echoed with three languages all at once. I am from a bar in Marseilles, a meadow in Molise, but most of all, I am from 116th Drive off Sutphin and Foch Boulevards – from a zebra-colored neighborhood where everyone called my grandmother mama and where cornrows were everywhere but never in fashion. I am from tomato and basil plants strung low with rainbow-colored yarn leaning sideways in damp summer soil. I am from gnarled hands that sew and tailor, iron and wash, cook and make all the places I come from.