Issue 5: Letter from the Editor

Issue 5: Letter from the Editor

Issue five will launch in mid-March. Make sure to subscribe to get this issue.

A day before the launch of the second issue of Poetry Is Dead my mother had a heart attack. I was on the way to pick up the beer for the launch when I received the call.  Thankfully I was just minutes from the hospital. When I arrived my mother was there, waiting, smiling as though nothing had happened.

From that point on my mother spent days and days in the hospital. She was moved from one hospital to the next, tested for every ailment that could have possibly caused a heart attack.

The heart attack turned out to be just one symptom of the several ailments ravaging her body. She was suffering from Smouldering Myeloma, congestive heart failure and a type of bone cancer. In just one year, her health quickly deteriorated and the doctors ran out of possible cures. In order to survive she would have had to endure hormone and chemo injections, a heart transplant, chemo for her blood, bone marrow transplant and a final set of chemo.

My mother never drank, never smoked and, for a large part of her life, was always keeping fit. A year following her heart attack on November 19th, 2011, she passed away in her sleep. Just a week after my 26th birthday, she went to take a nap and never woke up.

When my mother passed away I spent the first month pretending to listen to what people were saying. I couldn't focus at work. I couldn't read. I couldn't write.

When you find your mother in the bathroom, trying to straighten her hair, but too weak to lift the hair dryer ...

When the smell of food makes your mother too nauseous to eat, and she hasn't eaten all day ...

When you find your mother on the living room floor, still, after your father has attempted to resuscitate her ...

... the world becomes quiet ... distinctly quiet.

Without my mother, this magazine would not exist. She was the reason we had funding to start up and keep the magazine going. She was always willing to help me out whenever I needed anything. For everything she did, I am forever grateful.

In this issue you will find poems that go into the dark. Poems that strive in sadness, that find sincerity in a world of irony. 

I dedicate this issue to you, mom. May you rest in peace.


Your Loving Son,

Daniel Zomparelli


Poetry Is Dead