Paula Brancato Paula Brancato

Memoral Day 2000

Published by Hunger Mountain Literary Journal 2/1/2026

My father’s name was Sebastian or Sammy. Yiano to his sisters who, when he was

born in 1931, were so young they could not fully pronounce his name. “Suh-bahs-teeanno!” said my grandmother. “Yiano!” said they, faithfully reproducing the final sound. It

is said that old women can’t hear low-pitched sounds, like the gravelly voices of old

men. Old men, on the other hand, can’t hear high pitched tones, like the pursed

exclamations of old women. This is how they get along. Children only hear the final

syllables. This is why, “No, Tina.” or “Timeout, Tina!” does not work as well as “Tina, for

fuck’s sake, NO!”

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Paula Brancato Paula Brancato

Owwwwww Mnn

Every day I ask my assistant Jiani to buy tissues and cashews.

Every day Jiani says she will but every day something

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Paula Brancato Paula Brancato

MAY

Olive the Bunny

Bunny

Once upon a time, there was a bunny in a forest.  At that time this bunny was the only bunny.  There had been a Nonna and a Papa and a Mama bunny, but the little bunny whose name was Olive got lost one day lapping up maple syrup from the old maple tree down by the brook.  On that day her family searched and searched for her, but she could not be found.  They were moving to California and the hawk that was carrying them had a deadline, and so they went, or rather, he got ornery and carried them away.

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Paula Brancato Paula Brancato

February

TK’s apartment… penury, a penal colony… no windows… borrowings… towels, rags, mittens… flew up in my own vehicle…

Saturday in May

By Paula Brancato

TK’s apartment… penury, a penal colony… no windows… borrowings… towels, rags, mittens… flew up in my own vehicle… I was the only one who had one… large building… been here before… upper floors glass… white pine notes… no privacy… I drink his poison… I throw it… he shows me a fridge… small box in which to do this… two women comment all the while… another man following, flying downtown… my first husband TK and I never lived downtown… he was a pilot… removed, emotionless, something under… there… somewhere… kind enough… before I confused it… went across the hall to the other man’s flat… TK hands me a toothbrush and robe (he may as well have saluted)… in the back of the room is our fertility doctor… I go for it… the shower, but I cannot find it… cannot find anything… tooth sore… TK’s given me a packet… I almost threw it away… it is in my hand… is my hand… back… in the back bedroom the woman… Keira Knightly young… something I regret… jealousy… mine…

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