I went to Maria Lisella’s apartment in Queens, a walk from the train, the elevated N. She thoughtfully had prepared a meal for me, soup, bread, cheese, grilled vegetables. Her cooking like her poetry takes what is everyday and elevates it to an exceptionally rare place, the extraordinary—my that’s good!—and it’s universal too, meant just for you.

Before we ate, we recorded. I had first heard her read in NYC at a Bryant Park event back when she was Poet Laureate of Queens and her book, Thieves in the Family, had just been published. We bumped into each other not long ago—in Queens of all places—and I asked her if I could record her for the blog.