NVN Saturday: LAST WEEK, WHEN IT RAINED
by Alice Campbell Romano
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This river savaged my neighbor poured six feet of water into his basement water higher than his head In another house and another and another she slopped up onto the first floor, onto the boards onto the rugs ruthless No sooner did one neighbor finish his repairs after the hurricane— seventy-five thousand dollars— than the river bulged, swelled, pooled, in every room, floated his new furniture, gurgled and laughed and rose up outside to cover cars parked on the street And down the street on the corner the whole corner is lined with everything the family who lives in the house on the corner has to throw away chairs, a sofa, bookcases, baby beds, cabinets, whatever was contained in the cabinets, why name them all? Everything stored until a time when the family would agree on what to sell and when, and now there’s nothing but mush and melted glue and sog. The river today winks and scintillates under the bridge, well between her banks while a few early autumn leaves ride her ripples. Am I not beautiful, she whispers.
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Alice Campbell Romano lived a dozen years in Italy where she adapted Italian movie scripts into English, married a dashing Italian movie-maker, made children, and moved with the family to the U.S., where they built, she wrote, and the children grew. Her poems have appeared in—among other venues—Prometheus Dreaming, Persimmon Tree, Pink Panther Magazine, Orchards Poetry, New Croton Review; Beyond Words, Writing in a Woman's Voice, Quartet Journal, Instant Noodles Devil's Press, Moon Shadow Sanctuary Press. In January, she was awarded HONORABLE MENTION in The Comstock Review's 2022 Chapbook contest, "...not an award that we give every year, but an honor set aside for a few manuscripts." Alice swooned.