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p o e m s

g r e g o r i o   r a c a d i o




hunted by the ghosts of its citizens


finicky little devils those seagulls


broadway dreams


the train keeps passing

for jean genet

 

gregorio racadio writes...
 
here is a little something about me:

I was born and raised in California where I studied Cinema and Italian Literature at San Francisco State University. I ended up finishing out my degree in Italian Literature in Italy, where I studied for two years: one year in Florence and the second year at the University of Pavia. I made three 16mm shorts: La Pena, L'attaco di Panico and Mental Voyage Through Istanbul.

I moved to New York four years ago and live in Bushwick, Brooklyn. I work primarily in art direction for print ads and commercials and DJ in various clubs throughout New York City.  Writing and literature (emphasis on poetry) had always played an important role in my life. I grew up feasting on Yeats, Baudelaire, "the dandies", Italo Calvino, Pasolini, Cummings, just to name a few. Yet, it was't until I happened upon Mr. Arthur Rimbaud that poetry started to make complete sense. At an early age I found Rimbaud, the torrid and terrible youth that just by the mention of him starts fires and he inspired me to write. I used my hatred, my love, my laziness, and my fervor to burn down the fears around me.

Prose and poetry has always been present in my life... writing in little black composition books, on packs of cigarettes, on the passing Inter trains of Milan, behind the slip cover of library books, and anywhere else that I deemed inappropriate... I despise the notion of a writer that contemplates his position in the comfort of a café... such luxuries bring forth such bourgeois and frivolous literature... paint it on the back of a car, or shove inside a jacket pocket at the gap... if you feel your voice should be heard, scream it... don't hide your scribble on a dusty shelf, such modesty should be left to the New York Times.



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