Vino Rosso Poem by Alicia Patti

Vino Rosso

Rating: 5.0


My mother said Mussolini
was a good man because he made
everyone throw their pigs out
of the house and made sure
everyone got pasta every day
but no meat.
By then the pigs had all been slaughtered
to feed the army.

In the garden behind her shack,
broccoli withered in the hot Sicilian sun,
water doled out like vino rosso to alcoholics.

'One liter too much and Il Duce’s soldati
might die of thirst, ' the peasants would hiss,
rolling their eyes, huddling in dark cellars
where wine presses used to dwell,

because the purple grapes that once graced
the countryside had all been razed,

the culls remaining
just so many
rotting raisins.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
David Harris 05 February 2007

Alicia, a sobering picture of a war nobody wanted to know about. Everybody wants heroes, but the real heroes are the ones who are left to pick up the pieces. I liked this poem because it reflected the things you will not find in the history books of war. Although I didn't understand the Italian words, the rest of it made up for my lack of languages. It touched me greatly. Thanks for sharing it. David

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