Amy Soricelli has been in the field of career education and staffing for over 35 years. A lifelong Bronx resident, she has been published in Grub Street, Camelsaloon, Versewrights, The Starving Artist, Picayune Press, Deadsnakes, Corvus review, Deadbeats, Cantos, Poetrybay, The Blue Hour Magazine, Empty Mirror, Turbulence magazine, Bloodsugar Poetry, Little Rose magazine, The Caper Journal, CrossBronx, Long Island Quarterly, Blind Vigil Review, Isacoustic, Poetry Pacific, Underfoot, Picaroon Poetry, Vita Brevis, Voice of Eve, Uppagus, The Long Islander, The Pangolin Review, Plum Tree Tavern, Red Queen Literary Magazine, Terse Journal. Ethel5, as well as several anthologies. Nominated by Billy Collins for Emerging Writer's Fellowship/ 2019, Nominated for Sundress Publications "the best of the net" award 6/13, and recipient of Grace A. Croff Memorial Award for Poetry, Herbert H. Lehman College, 1975.
Any Random Tuesday #23
Children walk alone from long bricks of houses
against the grainy streets and recycle bins.
They look up sideways all the time,
the chewing gum and pizza money,
their long breath of this and that;
they can’t put their finger on it.
He rolled around in that tire-swing twisting it
and she pushed it hard.
Too hard I thought as I looked through the bus window.
He could fly straight up you know?
No one cares as they slide along the street,
with their bags of bruised fruit and ill- fitting bras.
I knew someone who’s three kids walked home 6 blocks each day;
12 together roped arm in arm a daisy chain.
They were good, though.
Nothing ever happened.
Down the street the Flannery boy was taken after school by his dad
in an old pickup.
He got right in you know?
The mother still looks down every street in that startled junkie way
you see in PSA’s.
But everyone knows he’s not coming back;
and it wasn’t because of the wrong side of the street shadows
or the neighbors dog.
It was just that day.
Just how it was, you know?