Sunday, April 26, 2020

Poem During the Plague: Poem 22

Lo Galluccio is a writer and vocalist whose published works include two chapbooks of poetry: Hot Rain on Ibbetson Street Press and Terrible Baubles on Alternating Current Press. In addition, her prose-poem memoir, Sarasota VII was published by Cervena Barva Press. She's been nominated four times for Pushcart prizes and served as Poet Populist of Cambridge between 2013-2015,  In July of 2019 she received an MFA in creative writing from Stonecoast, the University of Southern Maine. Her writer's site is  

The Home Situation

Dripping of water like fingers
stretching against the sky,
like bells, random and plain.

My dreams are so meddled with.
my mouth is dry and unlikely
to be met with another mouth now.

Still pieces of the universe
reward a pining heart, purses
full of anti-money and faith.

A dirty red curtain
swaths the situation and
defines the moment with bigger lips.

Bigger lips than mine
will kiss a stranger in this
time of quarantine.

We’re alone with our
dreams and we wake
startled by the piece-meal rain.


  1. That's a stunning entry into this dystopia we are living. Brava, Lo Galluccio, Brava!

  2. Your words are a lullaby hymn
    a few doors down in the mansion of solitude