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Stone Soup Servings Presents: Lo Galluccio


Stone Soup Servings is a regular series for Oddball Magazine that features upcoming performers at Stone Soup Poetry, the long-running spoken word venue in the Boston area that has partnered with Oddball Magazine. Stone Soup Poetry now meets from 7-9 p.m. every Monday at the Out of The Blue Art Gallery’s new location at 541 Massachusetts Avenue in Central Square Cambridge, Massachusetts. The open mike sign-up at 6:30 p.m.

On July 20, Stone Soup promises a night of song lyrics and poetry with Lo Galluccio, who just finished her tenure as the fourth (and hopefully not final) Cambridge Poet Populist. Read her poem below and be in the audience and be there for a night of song, spoken word and even her innovation of the open mic “grab bag.”


Serenading Indiana

The new purring breadbasket
of Serotonin. Sales of buckwheat
And beer. Anything to take up
space like anarchy.

Our conditioned hands.
The credibility of adulthood
and separation. The sorrow
floating downstream with time.

There are grasslands,
Did you know it? Minnesota
Has over 10,000 lakes.
I read it somewhere.

This is not the thing.
There are apples and wheat.
We are not for growth hormones.
Streams blue and green engulf us.

We will marry, in another
generation of dualities.
We will marry and
mate like roses into star-names.
envelope each other sparely
like ether and smoke
love like the sea-side and
never smother the flame.

The new tornadoes of Oklahoma
spin like Provigil into
helicopters of health.
You steal the matter from Pakistan.

I talked directly into it
and said the unsung part.
You were the dictator and
The buffoon.

We will marry in another
generation of broken ones.
The world is broken
so why worry so much?
We can live happy
in a broken world.
Have hope and jingle with the sun.


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Poem by Lo Galluccio


A little love poem
My ex-lover told me love is an action.

I send crushed velvet hearts
through the computer screen
to all of you. They will fly
onto your breasts at nipple-point
with diamond arrows:
for my aim is true.

I blow kisses through the windy
holes of February to you all.
They will smack your lips like
sweet hard candy, Revlon lipstick
and the curved salt sea.

I will dance across your windshields
A Thumbalina fairy, in red pointe
shoes and green chiffon wings.
Traffic will become a mirage.
And you will crash into radio songs.

I will dream of you whole and
Shining in handmade clothes
of yellow satin and black feathers,
with leopard skin pill box hats
and raspberry berets. Some in black
and white crinoline dresses,
some in high-draped pants.

And you will desire the fruits
Of love, its seeds and shapes,
Its colors and flavors.
And you shall eat eat like
Children at a country fair. Sweaty
Sensuous heathen drunk
On caramel apples and magenta balloons.

I will take you up…like Dorothy over Oz.


"Pierce The Earth,"  © TJ Edson
“Pierce The Earth,” © TJ Edson


Aside from being Cambridge’s 4th Poet Populist, Lo Galluccio has three published works: Hot Rain, Sarasota VII, and Terrible Baubles. In addition to being a poet and memoirist, Lo’s produced three vocal CDs, Being Visited, Spell on You and Terrible Baubles. She’s performed at many venues here and in NYC.

TJ Edson is the Art Director of Oddball Magazine and a volunteer at the Out of The Blue Art Gallery. He has also had work appear recently in Terrarium.


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Poem by Lo Galluccio


In Your Absence
A poem in five parts


The coffee will only make me sleepy
False hope arrow night
To convenience caffeine.
Or is it just my luck
Have to walk the imaginary dog.
She’s a numb beast and sacrificial lamb.
My dog, not loquacious
Like Jean Dany’s in the black
Box theatre in a beautiful
Creole bombast.
My dog loves the yellow moon
But is afraid to howl.
My howl is wind crossing
“t’s” on this page.


The last I heard
“Hey darlin’” on a voice mail
Was your blue-eyed bass voice
Saying you was on a train
From San Diego to L.A.
It was that gold Eagle you saw
Stuck my mind with his honor
Obama as Mr. Spock now
After we sat through previews
Of machines killing humans
Obama as the celebrity catalyst
Solidly watching Star Trek
With his kids with whom
He eats dinner every night, almost.


You left me a China Doll plant
And a toy pony with black and white
Apaloosa marks.
You left me voice mail messages
About Santa Fe signs
On trains headed North past
The Pacific. I am alone
On a windy Memorial Day weekend.
The wind is like sand
I cannot see
Building tunnels and bridges
Back to you
Cold-hot sign of
The Vulcan, Captain Jim.


Vanilla CVS candle still burning
Vanilla cupcake cappuccino
Machine drink
Swirls my tongue with sugar
Pixels –
Pops open the opiate receptors –
To shimmy,
I can inhale more poetry past
Midnight. The dog ran away
In the dark.
She didn’t understand
How much I wanted
Her tail-wagging black fur
And loyalty love.


I’m your China doll
Plant; the girlfriend in a pot;
Moonlight and earth smells
Nurture me gently
With a sugary tide of fondness
For you.
Passionate kisses under the moon
Will have to wait til your return
The eagle flies on Sunday.
The blue heron winks at you.
On this planet oxygen rules.
In and out
Like sex
And breath.


"Spector" © Sheri L. Wright
“Spector” © Sheri L. Wright


Lo Galluccio is a poet, memoirist and vocal artist whose chapbooks include Hot Rain, Terrible Baubles, and the prose poem memoir Sarasota VII, all of which are available at the Grolier Poetry Bookshop in Cambridge and through her website. She has been nominated for three Pushcart awards and is currently serving as the 4th Poet Populist of Cambridge.

Two-time Pushcart Prize and Kentucky Poet Laureate nominee, Sheri L. Wright is the author of six books of poetry, including the most recent, The Feast of Erasure. Wright’s visual work has appeared in numerous journals, including Blood Orange Review and Subliminal Interiors. Her photography has been shown across the Ohio Valley region and abroad. Currently, she is working on her first documentary film, Tracking Fire.