Blog Archives

Video – Nov. 22, 2019 reading at Bureau of General Services – Queer Division

I’m honored by Don Yorty who came to my reading on Nov 22th and who has graciously added a video of me to his blog.

Vittoria repetto reads from my fingers wonder





Friday 11/22 Linda Whalen Quinlan & Vittoria repetto read at BGS-Queer Division

Friday November 22th at 7pm – LGBT Community Center, 208 West 13th Street (between 7th Avenue and Greenwich Avenue) Room 210
Suggested donation of $10 – no one will be turned away for lack of funds

Linda Whalen Quinlan will read from her poetry book, Chelsea Creek which won the Wicked Woman Poetry Competition.
Long-time LGBTQ activist and poet, Quinlan grew up the daughter of union parents, a factory worker, and a carpenter. As the lesbian mother of two sons, Quinlan explores issues of gender and motherhood while also observing the particularities of the past and present cultural landscape.
“Linda Whalen Quinlan renders the rough terrain of working-class New England with a lush beauty that pulls no punches, letting the brute hardness of a place and its people coexist with longing and love, finding the tenderness hiding inside tragedy,” PEN Award winner Michelle Tea said of Quinlan’s work. “I love these poems.”

Vittoria repetto will read from her first poetry book Not Just A Personal Ad and from her second book My Fingers Wonder which is not yet published.
Her poetry paints unforgettable moments within unforgettable scenes and casts an unapologetically direct and witty eye on life’s complexity
Poet and reviewer Rigoberto Gonzalez wrote in the Lambda Book Report about Vittoria repetto’s first full length poetry book Not Just A Personal Ad , “Poems of intense sensibility and gorgeous imagery are a rarity these days; but this book of verse by a distinctly working class, distinctly lesbian, and distinctly Italian American voice is a must for all readers of good poetry.”
Vittoria repetto hosted the Women’s/Trans’ Poetry Jam at Bluestockings Bookstore from 1999 until 2018 and was the vice president of the Italian American Writers Assoc from 1991 to 2016.

Tues 2/23th Grey Vild & Julia Guzzio read at Women’s & Trans’ Poetry Jam at Bluestockings

Women’s & Trans’ Poetry Jam & Open Mike for Women & Trans’

Tuesday Feb 23th 7pm – 9pm

Feature Writers: Grey Vild & Julia Guzzio

Grey Vilds’ writing is mostly concerned with dysphoria and displacement, (trans-ly/ if that’s a word) reclaiming hysteria, disrupting trans narrative and white masculinity. He makes use of voices that range from the narrative to abstract, political to lyrical, all of which claim no innocence.

 Julia Guzzio writes hypothetical love poems along with poems about society and poems that are loosely autobiographical. When not in verse, Julia Guzzio is drawn to writing flash short fiction about the mysterious quality of being on the out skirts of a situation.


$5 suggested donation

This series, started in 1999, is hosted by Vittoria repetto – the hardest working guinea butch dyke poet on the lower east side

Bluestockings Bookstore
172 Allen St.
(between Staton & Rivington)
1 1/2 blocks south from E.Houston

Open mike ( for women & trans only) – sign-up at 7 pm – 8 minute limit
Bring your poetry, your prose, your songs, and your spoken word.

Take V or F train to 2nd Ave. and exit from the 1st Ave exit and walk south down Allen St. (aka. 1st Ave) 1 ½ blocks to the store.

Italian American Bookstore to Open in Boston


Dear readers,

Life has a funny and mysterious way of taking us by the hand and pulling us towards projects we never dreamed of until recently.

That is how I feel right now, as I announce this big step forward in our goal to give the local Italian and Italian American communities a voice and identity they can be proud of.

For several months, with the help of many people encountered through the years as editor of and Bostoniano magazine, I have been working on creating I Am Books — a real, physical space that can bring the community together and offer authors and artists a place to meet and exchange ideas.

What better place than a bookstore, right in the heart of the North End, Boston’s iconic Italian neighborhood?

I Am Books will quickly become an Italian American cultural hub, a place where people will be able to dig deep into their Italian heritage and roots, or even just browse through books, gifts or toys (yes, we will have a children’s section!).

We have already accomplished a lot of the behind-the-scenes work, but now we need your help to complete the mission.

Today we have launched a Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign to provide the necessary funds to get off the ground. More information about the project, as well as a short video showing you the space, is available here:

Please consider donating to our campaign, and please spread the word to family and friends on Facebook and other social media.

Let’s make the country notice what Boston Italian Americans are capable of. Let’s make this common dream come true!

Grazie mille! Thank you so much!

Nicola Orichuia


poem: seen from window

between buildings
a turtledove
preening on a tree branch.

©- 2015 – Vittoria repetto

Poem: l’rondini di framura (the swallows of framura)

up from africa

for the season

to feast on insects eating orchid fruits

and to hatch their babies

under drain pipes

and the corners of tunnels.

peaceful jets,

they pitch,



and float

down narrow sloping streets

and circle ancient towers.

©- 2014 – Vittoria repetto


poem: the protector

after mamma died,

nonna would sleep with me

in the big bed

in my parent’s apt.

dad coming home

after the restaurant closed

slept in my old bed.

as a teen

i wanted my own space

but had none.

i sometimes woke nonna up suddenly

as i in an adolescent sex dream

grabbed her.

and in the summer,

she liked the a.c. high

and i didn’t.

years after she died,

an old friend of nonna’s told me

nonna had heard

of widowers taking their daughters

and though she thought

dad was not the type,

she was going to make sure.

©- 2014 – Vittoria repetto

a poem of thanks

in my 20’s,
coming home
3am from the dyke bar
i climb the stairs up from dekalb station.
a monarch butterfly flutters on the stair lights;
lost from its course.
thinking someone might hurt it,
i wait ‘til it closes
its wings together,
softly grab the paired wings
wait for it to relax its legs;
once taught to me by the old italian guy
who grew morning glories
next to the bocce court on leroy
when i was a kid.
i cup the monarch in my hands like a prayer.
out on the street, 3 young guys
coming from where i need to go say
hey dyke!
where you going, dyke!
i figure i’m in trouble
then i remember
i still have the butterfly
and need it let it go.
i turn,
face my future beaters,
lift buddhist prayer hands to my face,
open and push the butterfly away.
it flies towards their faces.
the 3 guys duck,
confused and startled.
as the monarch goes safely to its course,
i too
go safely home.

©- 2014 – Vittoria repetto

poem: summer 2014 – chinatown park

80 degrees

and the water games begin:

ballons and space guns

block vs block,

girls vs. boys,

b ball team vs. b ball team

run, throw, retreat,


in their enthusiasm,

they rain

near misses on the daily bench sitters.

an old chinese woman,

resting from her collection

of discarded water bottles,

yells her distain.

©- 2014 – Vittoria repetto

poem for nonna

today’s a sunny day, i’m thinking of you

you coming down the street with bundles

me with friends

you smile, say hello to my friends

and then the rest of the conversation is in italian

like you don’t know how to say it in english.

i remember you working in zampieri’s bakery

you would say yes sir to the women

no matter how many times i said

nonna say yes madam or yes miss.

today trying to read a italian newspaper

i’m thinking of you

how you argued with mama and dad

mama wanting not to teach me italian

growing up in world war 2

they weren’t to speak the language of the enemy

and dad wanting to teach me the genovese dialect

but you won out, it would be proper italian

but you always said

my italian grammar was bad

and i should have taken italian

but i thought french was cool for a english major

and i fiqured

reading dante in translation would be good enough

and your leftist guinea dyke granddaughter

was too busy fighting for

women and gays and colors

too busy hiding from her guinea self

to understand what i was losing

today, reading dad’s brain MRI report

i’m thinking of you

the massive stroke

one minute standing, the next dead

how you didn’t die in a hospital

tubes up your nose

your spirit dying

it frightened you so

that day

in the middle of my crying

this agnostic looked up to the heavens

and thanked whoever

for taking you quick

for not putting you in that hospital bed.

©- 2003 – Vittoria repetto