She finds herself all by herself in bed,
a web of sunshine on the downy sheet,
a wedding day of bells inside her head,
a layer of cream upon her skin, her feet
still sore from twenty years of love and toil,
yet she thinks that life’s been pretty good.
She hears the bacon sizzle, coffee boil
inside the dented pot of spinsterhood.
She has survived the cold and loneliness
of her decisions, and of her mistakes, Read more …
Age after age I’ve fought in wars,
I’m the diehard who’ll never die,
Adventure’s been my life’s breath,
no regrets I’ll ever sigh.
Faith and Loyalty — they’re my Laws,
Honour and Duty — they’re my Cause.
Haman was my man, when we did plan to make the Persians free,
And it was I who whispered counsel in Pharaoh’s ear, Read more …
On 27 January 1945 the Red Army had just been defeated in an armor engagement with the 20th Panzer Division, which was retreating to escape encirclement, slightly south of Gleiwitz in Upper Silesia. Two villages were punished for the defeat: Preiswitz, populated by Poles, and neighboring Schönwald, populated by Germans. In total, 200 innocent civilians were murdered in cold blood. Read more …
Joseph S. Salemi was born in New York City in 1948 and grew up in Woodside, Queens. His grandfather, Rosario Previti, was a renowned Sicilian journalist, poet, and translator who rendered Edward FitzGerald’s version of the Rubaiyat into Italian, and who served as the American correspondent for the newspaper Don Giovanni in Messina, for which he wrote a popular series of satiric columns on the lifestyles and habits of Americans.
There once was a little man. He lived and
Then he died, blood and the contents of his skull
Mixed with the others’. The end. Then how full
Were the streets with candles, hearts of chalk, grand
Monuments all evanescently lit
With the colours of what happened to be
His country’s flag. Oh they were cowardly
Those wicked Brusselaars who dared commit Read more …