Left-Handed Poetry Two weeks post-surgery episode of Breaking Bad briefly holds my attention, extra large cucumber shows up in the garden, my sister gives me a shimmering tattoo of a mermaid, in honor of her birthday. Oliver Sacks dies on August 30th, while I am reading his biography. I create a plan for the first day of school, though I won’t be teaching. I pretend to go see the new Mission Impossible movie: Rogue Nation. Dog retrieves his lost chew-toy from under the sofa. I FaceTime with Madeline, compare pains and past-times. While the Ink-black scab on my elbow flakes off, I practice printing with my left hand. Absently She Mutters, How’s Your Arm? My mother sits motionless except her lips which move in prayer. She tells the old stories in Italian: dusty wine bottles in the cave under the bottega during the air raid, the sirens whining. My eight-year-old mother running atraverso gli uliveti, skirt flying like the parachute she chases, until it lands and she catches up with it. Pasta Sonata for Eight Allegro Uno per persona, my cousin tells me. I click each one under the table, crack and divide, let them slide into the center, take their place Andante I turn the crank slowly on the Atlas Mercato, it squeaks just a little. I feed the dough by the slice, producing long pages of pasta. Place them under a linen cloth to rest. Finale: Allegro con spirito Boiling water awaits each past sheet pressing against the steel strings of the wooden-framed chitarra until the impression shows through. I strum the strings, with the back of my hand, in a sweeping gesture. It rings out, a discordant twang. |
Bio:
Linda Lamenza’s mother was born in Abruzzi and came to the US when she was nine years old. Her paternal grandparents were from Naples. She was raised living with her Italian grandmother, Nonni, with whom she only spoke Italian. Linda is now a poet and literacy specialist in Massachusetts. Her work is forthcoming or has appeared in Lily Poetry Review, The Healing Muse, Main Street Rag, The Comstock Review, The Tishman Review and elsewhere.