Among her meticulously...
and There she was...
by Joseph Sciorra
Among her meticulously...
Among her meticulously catalogued collection of future memories and emerging visions is a carefully guarded envelope of uncharted dreams: the apricot pit that sprouts from between her breasts; the double-exposed photograph of skaters meeting at lovers’ lane; the reflection of an altar piece from Jalisco. The taste of chickpeas, the sound of sleep. These are the keepsakes she consults upon waking, the ones that kiss her eyelids at night. But her most treasured souvenir is the one she would discover along a Parisian pier—a sheet of blank paper folded in quarters—the one she had demanded, the one she shares with no one.
There she was...
There she was, the woman from the sci-fi movie working as a cashier at Woolworth’s. At seven-years-old, I was smitten the moment I saw her on TV dressed in a leopard-skin outfit, the leader of warrior women on a distant planet without men. It was definitely her, here among us earthlings, with her jet black tease of feral hair, her acutely arched eyebrows that ended in perilous points, and her eyes marked by thick, dark lines that flared at the ends like the fins on a ‘59 Cadillac. I visited regularly to buy penny gum, comic books, a balsa wood airplane, approaching her cautiously with a childish mix of fear and infatuation. The indifference of my dime-store Amazon marred her crimson lips with the slightest frown of terrestrial disaffection.
Joseph Sciorra, Associate Director for Academic and Cultural Programs at the John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, Queens College (City University of New York), is co-editor of poet Vincenzo Ancona’s bilingual anthology Malidittu la lingua/Damned Language, editor of Italian Folk Vernacular Culture in Italian-American Lives, and author of R.I.P.: Memorial Wall Art. As the avatar “Joey Skee,” Sciorra maintains the blog, “Occhio contro occhio,” at www.i-italy.org.
and There she was...
by Joseph Sciorra
Among her meticulously...
Among her meticulously catalogued collection of future memories and emerging visions is a carefully guarded envelope of uncharted dreams: the apricot pit that sprouts from between her breasts; the double-exposed photograph of skaters meeting at lovers’ lane; the reflection of an altar piece from Jalisco. The taste of chickpeas, the sound of sleep. These are the keepsakes she consults upon waking, the ones that kiss her eyelids at night. But her most treasured souvenir is the one she would discover along a Parisian pier—a sheet of blank paper folded in quarters—the one she had demanded, the one she shares with no one.
There she was...
There she was, the woman from the sci-fi movie working as a cashier at Woolworth’s. At seven-years-old, I was smitten the moment I saw her on TV dressed in a leopard-skin outfit, the leader of warrior women on a distant planet without men. It was definitely her, here among us earthlings, with her jet black tease of feral hair, her acutely arched eyebrows that ended in perilous points, and her eyes marked by thick, dark lines that flared at the ends like the fins on a ‘59 Cadillac. I visited regularly to buy penny gum, comic books, a balsa wood airplane, approaching her cautiously with a childish mix of fear and infatuation. The indifference of my dime-store Amazon marred her crimson lips with the slightest frown of terrestrial disaffection.
Joseph Sciorra, Associate Director for Academic and Cultural Programs at the John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, Queens College (City University of New York), is co-editor of poet Vincenzo Ancona’s bilingual anthology Malidittu la lingua/Damned Language, editor of Italian Folk Vernacular Culture in Italian-American Lives, and author of R.I.P.: Memorial Wall Art. As the avatar “Joey Skee,” Sciorra maintains the blog, “Occhio contro occhio,” at www.i-italy.org.