Testimonio: by Bonnie McClellan



Awake I break and chip this language

As if I am trying to bang out acanthus leaves with

The blunt face of a five pound sledge;

Just call me:


Grazia, (a Dio).


Full of sleep I slide into the Jungian upper room,

Strike the uncomprehending Pentecostal match and speak:


Wet words,

Wavelets around boats that ply

Apostolic present perfect street.

My dreams blink and smile:



Stout woman in a flowered dress.

Flash of thread.

Globe of sky,


Offers, unclouded

Not the world

But the breath of it:




Water stands suspended within

Bright still chaos of oxygen

Where swallows weave with crosséd paths

Nets anchored round scattered signal taps.

Antennae of the televisions

Buoy mark this random ocean.

From rooftop to rooftop

(da tetto a tetto).


Test a mon io.

Click on the audio player below to hear a reading of this poem:


By bonniemcclellan

Mother, poet, american ex-pat from Texas living in Northern Italy.

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