Old Is Not a Four-Letter Word - Sergio, Alexandrina
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The poems in Alexandrina Sergio's OLD IS NOT A FOUR-LETTER WORD are as expansive of heart as they are witty and energetic.Danielle Pieratti writes: "With wisdom, candor, and witty defiance, the poems in Sandy Sergio's Old Is Not a Four-Letter Word observe life through eyes simultaneously prudent and fresh. Hers is a world viewed with earned distance, where ordinary encounters-a visit from a solar salesman, a chance meeting with a biker, a glimpse at a child carrying his saxophone home from school-are endowed with a touch of the divine. Even an artichoke holds a secret. In savoring the mortal,…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
The poems in Alexandrina Sergio's OLD IS NOT A FOUR-LETTER WORD are as expansive of heart as they are witty and energetic.Danielle Pieratti writes: "With wisdom, candor, and witty defiance, the poems in Sandy Sergio's Old Is Not a Four-Letter Word observe life through eyes simultaneously prudent and fresh. Hers is a world viewed with earned distance, where ordinary encounters-a visit from a solar salesman, a chance meeting with a biker, a glimpse at a child carrying his saxophone home from school-are endowed with a touch of the divine. Even an artichoke holds a secret. In savoring the mortal, the temporary, these poems make one long for permanence." David K. Leff adds, "Time is a haunting, bodily presence in Sergio's poems. She wrestles elegantly with the years in a language that would be poignant at any age.
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Autorenporträt
Back then the place for good shopping at good prices was Park Street, which after sundown saw a lively excitement of bargain-seekers, families out for a nice meal or couples anticipating a movie at the Lyric. On one memorable evening, flanked by Mommy and Daddy, four-year-old Sandy danced down Park Street, ecstatic in her just-purchased red sandals. They were the most wonderful shoes in the world! Near the corner of Park and Main a woman stepped from a doorway and held out a nickel to the exuberant little girl. The mother held the child back, wary of the coin's dubious source. "Aw, let the kid have it. She's making me smile." The mother relented and Sandy took the nickel. Parents who loved her so much they bought her beautiful shoes, a sparkling night-time excursion, and a nice lady giving her a nickel: life was perfect! I was-and am--Sandy, and this is my very first memory, one no doubt reinforced through hearing my mother over the years tell the story of that evening when a lady of the night gave me a nickel because I had made her smile. It could be that the memory has remained with me because I treasure the thought that I, however briefly, forged a connection with someone who perhaps needed such a thing. Through writing and performing poetry, I hope I can still manage to do that. In 2015 Sandy was appointed to the newly established position of Poet Laureate for the town of Glastonbury, Connecticut.