Two Poems by


Salvatore Difalco





My Dead Father Stands Among The People



I plan to continue despite the presence

of ghosts. I don’t believe in them,

I believe in the power of words

to create them from scratch and

parade them around paper fairgrounds.


Watch your valuables as you sail

down the metaphoric chute. Thieves

wait around its bends with blackjacks

and bear spray. Never say you

weren’t warned. But the message tracks

according to the latest data

and we have no reason to fear death

at least not today when harm

will only come to those who lack it.




Let Me Hold Your Head



Your gaze itself announces the starting lineup

for tonight’s east coast tilt. Everyone

believes the time is ripe for victory,

even the inevitable losers. Ties no longer

count in this pipeline to the last few seconds.

The fan crush postgame alarms

the uniformed beefeaters blushing

as they wield batons and push back the crowd.

And it all unfolds like a high concept flick

that never got off the ground. A lack

of scruples skates thin ice in the field rink.

Someone’s dad started the tradition.

We drank weak coffee with powdered

creamer that left an aftertaste reminiscent

of anesthesia. No one complained

though most of us lacked mouths.

The artist had forgotten to draw them in

last time he came round for revisions.









Sicilian Canadian poet and author Salvatore Difalco currently lives in Toronto, Canada. Recent work appears in RHINO Poetry, Blaze Vox, and Third Wednesday. 



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