Anna's Alliterations
by Anna Santacroce

Alliterative Prose: Assonance and Consonance in an Adult Home (A.H.l.)

January's gentrification brings displacement in December.


My name is Anna. Anna, I alliterate.

It is in an adult home, that I create.



The allegory starts, perhaps with a pen.

It is about written word, now and then.



Sister forsythia. Dichotomous dicot flower.

Psychotic psychiatric clash. Schizoaffective disorder (bipolar type).



Forsyth was a county that Oprah Winfrey televised.

A county of hate, segregation and demise.



I know of the missing: in post-traumatic stress.

The world of isolation, I must confess.



Acrux, Antares, Antares-b.

Our Grandparents were Allies in the American Army.



The year had been 1941.

The Axis’ holocaust was more real than literary pun.



Isaac Asimov began writing Nightfall.

Science fiction and psychiatry—in New York City, NY.



"Take the 'A' Train” was commercially recorded.

By Billy Strayhorn and the Duke Ellington Orchestra.



A favorite read is Maya Angelou’s I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.

Modernism’s narratives when the phone doesn’t ring.



I am from a Village on Long Island’s South Fork.

Hometown of HERSTORY:  Sag Harbor, NY.



Antares the supergiant, hidden behind the sun.

Antares-b circles Antares, oh what fun.



”lt’s Show Time at the Apollo”

Homelessness is real, more than you should know.



There is no equinox that can make right.

The hurt you knew:  solstice's strife.



I walk past the necropolis: city of the dead.

Saint Andrew's R.C. Church Cemetery l have read.



Chrysanthemums:  mums the word.

The sound of your voice I have not heard.



Aretha Franklin. Amy Winehouse. Adele. Bonnie Raitt.

No Section 8.