Maria
Lupinacci is a 2003 Pushcart Nominee whose work has been featured in Dark
Moon Rising.com, Erosha-a literary journal of the erotic, Point of Life.com,Lil’s
Experimental Poetry E-zine, Lily-A Monthly Online Literary Review and readingdivas.com.
Her poem, In the House of Subjectivity was selected as the Second Place
winner in iVillage.com's Fourth Annual Poetry Slam 2003.
Ms. Lupinacci is a Massage Therapist, Reiki Master and an Integrated Energy
Therapist who currently resides in New Jersey.
Interviewing a Journalist
The last night we spoke:
we discussed "evil".
Yours and mine.
Writers do this.
They take an instance of human error
and turn it into a soliloquy
of metaphors
to justify
why it's all fallen apart.
We fell apart,
died.
Your eyes agonized
when describing the maggot
that grew fatter
embedded within the marrow
of your spine,
unable to morph into a fly.
And I ignored the look,
as it bled onto the surface
of your contorted face.
It should have been so simple.
Me, being esoteric and versed
in such things:
transcendence, symbols,
decay.
You, being logical and ground
based: explanations pouring themselves
onto your pages with all the hows
and whys accredited in their proper
places.
But evil doesn't float on either side
of logic or creativity;
it is the maggot,
the germ that swims within
the nucleus
and feeds on its plasma.
One cannot confer its power
and walk away unscathed.
Withered in its depths,
the writer finds himself
giving way to cause as he scribes
obscure words.
He neither denies nor defends,
because in the end
it is all about the means
and the time of death.