Flavio Almerighi

Storm Petrel

Translated by Steven Greco-Rathgeb


ISBN 10: 1-879378-97-3
ISBN 13: 978-1-879378-97-1
Italian-English, 131 pages, $15

 

 

Author Biography | Read Selection

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FLAVIO ALMERIGHI was born in Faenza, Italy, in 1959. As a boy he began writing poetry and got involved in radio and the theater. The best year of his life was 1976, when he read The Odyssey over the summer. His daughter Caroline says her father is her favorite poet. Among the poets he considers his most important influences are Guillaume Apollinaire, Pedro Pietri, Peter Sinfield, Pasquale Panella, Dario Bellezza and Amelia Rosselli. Outside of poetry, his life is taken up with the aridity of numbers.

His poetry collections are: Allegro Improvviso / Sudden Allegro (Ibiskos 1999), Vie di Fuga / Escape Routes (Aletti, 2002), Amori al tempo del Nasdaq / Love in the Time of Nasdaq (Aletti, 2003), Coscienze di mulini a vento / Consciousnesses of Windmills (Gabrieli, 2007), durante il dopocristo / during the afterchrist (Tempo al Libro, 2008), qui è lontan / here it's far away (Tempo al Libro, 2010), Voce dei miei occhi / Voice of my eyes (Fermenti, 2011), Procellaria / Storm Petrel (Fermenti, 2013), Caleranno i Vandali / Drop the Vandals (Samuel, 2016). Some of his works have been published in the literary magazines Sheet Clandestino, Prospektiva and Tratti. He is a regular contributor to the virtual magazines Versante ripido (Steep Slope) and L'ombra delle parole (The Shadow of Words).

Amerighi's work can be found online at: http://www.versanteripido.it/tag/almerighi/
Author's blog: https://almerighi.wordpress.com/


STEVEN GRIECO-RATHGEB is a Swiss-born poet and translator who writes in Italian and English. In 2015 he translated Giorgio Linguaglossa, Three Stills in the Frame: Selected Poems, 1986-2014 and in 2016 Roberto Bertoldo, Victims' Cram: Selected Poems 1965-2015, both for Chelsea Editions.

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"In Almerighi's lean style we detect a subtle and sparing use of words which the poet has been careful not to educate or sanitize; they are revealed little by little in a casual, ironic manner, while he himself is busy with 'objects' (i.e., the optimal place, 'utopia stuffed with scholastic eros') among bursts of laughter and wry take-offs on the meaningless blabber (the non-place) which we have come to accept as our daily speech."

~ From the Critical Note by Giorgio Linguaglossa.

 


 

 

 

 

Selections from
Storm Petrel

 



Poet Flavio Almerighi

 

 

From Procellaria / Storm Petrel (2013-2017)

Poco importa

Siano morti o ancora viv
poco importa
specialmente dove non c'è sole,
è tutto diverso il frasario logoro
prestato agli indigenti
cui l'usato è garantito.

Coscienze di mulini a vento
sveglie già appisolate
di gente eternamente distratta,
altri non si sono alzati
mai più, senza sconto poco importa
siano morti o ancora vivi.


What Does It Matter

Are we dead or still alive
what does it matter
especially where there's no sun,
the worn-out phrases are all different
loaned out to the indigent
whose secondhand is certified.

Awareness of windmills
wake-up calls right back to snooze
of people forever absent-minded,
others never got up
again, without a rebate what does it matter
whether they're dead or still alive.


Come pane francese

Sono stato ragazzo
cattolico fervente,
ancora vergine
che già non ero più,
so piegare la testa
main verso l'alto
di lato adesso sì.
Seducente se piove
romantico per tante
lune piene già verdute.
So perché
il mondo è inattendibile
questione d'ortografie,
e s'infila
si spiaggia
per fare cruciverba,
vedere tutto da lontano.
Talvolta ammicco
l'idea del rientro
lievita, secca in giornata
come pane francese.


Like French Bread

I was a boy
a fervent Catholic
still the virgin
I no longer really was,
I know how to bend my head
never up,
now sideways, yes.
Seductive if there's rain
romantic because of the many
full moons already seen.
I know why
the world is an unreliable
question of correct spelling,
why it slips inside
gets beached
to do cross-word puzzles,
see everything from a distance.
Sometimes I wink
the idea of "back from holidays"
rises, goes stale in one day
like French bread.

 

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