(2022)

ISBN 9798986942100

$12.95

With themes of righteous anger and a burning sense of injustice, gulp/gasp is Serena Piccoli’s latest collection of poetry that aims to touch hearts and aggravate minds. Piccoli brings into this latest poetry collection her social and political knowledge, as an Italian poet, playwright, photographer, and artistic director. Her pieces bring attention to unsaid horrors happening all around the globe, from the rape of Yazidi Kurdish women to the struggles associated with the COVID-19 lockdowns. Each section of the chapbook brings a new perspective that further highlights the sickness that is white imperialism coupled with late-stage capitalism. Piccoli gives voice to those who are forced to gulp down a daily dose of oppression and allows those who suffer to sputter and gasp breath into their tired lungs.

Piccoli organizes the chapbook into six sections: gulp, we call ourselves human, zanzibar island, amore, britannia, and gasp, and in between the gulp and gasp are moments of realization, defiance, fear, love, and heartbreak. In the first piece of gulp, “it’s honey, darling!,”

Piccoli sets the stage beautifully: “we all stand outside tongue out / to lick one drop of acid rain / and imagine it’s honey” (lines 4-6). As a collective, it is all too common for us the West to wait patiently for our turn—for our hard work to pay off, for the American Dream to come to us, finally. We accept acid rain, not just blandness but active harm, into our bloodstream, because that is all that seems attainable. We pretend all is well, that this is the time to be alive, that we have made so much progress as a socially just world—but, in truth, we have not. Piccoli burns this truth in neon lights, using simple language and effective imagery to educate the ignorant, investigate hypocrisies, and inspire rightful, long-awaited rage.

One of the more memorable pieces to me comes from the “we call ourselves human” section; its title is “shingal.” In this piece, Piccoli provides an opportunity for those who don’t know about the kidnapping, beating, and rape of thousands of Yazidi girls and women from the Sinjar district of Iraq in 2014 to learn and to feel anger. The piece is from a Yazidi woman’s perspective as she tries to gain sanctuary on Mount Shingal. She remarks, “some humans are more humans than others / some women are less people than others” (lines 10-11). In only a handful of words, Piccoli describes the ugly truths that these women and others oppressed face continuously: people have the capacity for cruelty, and they exercise it often; some people are less human—and thus deserving of less humanity—than others.

While many pieces in the collection are sobering and enraging, there are some poems that inspire peace and hope for those who are used to the abuse of the Western world. For example, in the section “amore,” Piccoli demonstrates that the world has brightness among the pain in a number of heartwarming pieces. The poem “among ruins” is one of these pieces, dedicated to LGBT immigrants who are shunned from society. Two strong warriors fight against scrutiny and possible punishment, and while loving their lover, one says to the other, “I’m more powerful than any collapse in law that can take you / away / while on these stones / we bloom in paper” (lines 28-31). Such lines are saddening as they are encouraging: while these lovers may have to face prejudice and injustice in the world, they have their moment, together, eternalized on the page.

Piccoli closes gulp/gasp with declarations that cannot be misconstrued and demand immediate attention. In the section “gasp,” Piccoli writes more on hardships that have just happened or are still happening to people everywhere due to government response to COVID-19. “#EnglishFreeSchoolMeals in January 2021,” for instance, uses real data from UK school lunches to illustrate the meager provisions made by the UK government. In her words, “this is not poetry / this is poverty” (lines 26-27). gulp/gasp addresses disillusionment directly and makes supremely evident the hypocrisy and ridiculousness of the world; instead of dancing around perpetrators, Piccoli is clear who and what is perpetuating human pain and why. With her illuminating and enraging chapbook, Piccoli urges readers to learn, to feel, and to act.

Andrea Wagner California State University, Stanislaus