Card Night Table of Contents by Date

We, the cousins, have been playing cards just about every other Friday at Frank M. Trotta's house for a couple of years now.  I try to write an original poem to share with my culturally starved cousins,  or re=write words to well-known Italian songs (make them say something about cards and us) for our enjoyment.  We sing them together.  Don't worry, it's not a real threat to American Idol.  One beer or a glass of wine, though, and we can compete.
 
Frank has taken it upon himself to provide wine and food for all.  He is a generous man.  We take a break during the card games and go to the trough to eat like sheep led to grass.  It is a special time for all of us as it brings back the days when we used to play with our dads, uncles and grandfathers.  Now, we are the dads, uncles and grandfathers.
 
Occasionally, non-bloods play too, such as Vince and Ed.  Vince is Calabrese and Ed is Napolitano, so they're OK. We don't worry about them.  They will keep their mouths shut.  They know what happens to "singing canaries".
 
While we are playing, the wine bottles mysteriously appear one after another from the inner sanctum, the cantina in the basement below.  We stare at each other as the evening proceeds and witness each other's eyes become blood shot or slightly crossed  from the inexhaustible homemade Cabernet, Syrah, or Merlot.

On this night, Jerry brought a bottle of wine his son, Michael, had made especially for this occasion, and it was aptly named "Couzins".
 
Sometimes, because of the wine, we say silly things, such as when Joe Trotta, blurted out once, "Let's just exterminate everyone. Then they'll know we are not kidding."
 
That's why I always read my songs and poems BEFORE the imbibing and card-playing begins. It guarantees the minimum attention span needed  by the listeners, and helps to make my poems appear much better than they really are.

Here's an example:

Angelo D’Elia/ 05-04-07

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