<DIV><p>With seriocomic tone, these elliptical lyrics reveal illusions and exclusions at the heart of America&rsquo;s global narrative of economic &ldquo;progress,&rdquo; and the attendant loss of cultural identity and memory. At the same time, <i>Matadora</I> challenges traditional Fillipina gender norms, beginning with the title which feminizes a word and profession traditionally masculine.</p><p><b>New York (Sweet and Sour Sauce)</b></p> <p><i>I (Asian girl) was eating pasta with a dancer (Asian girl) last night in front of the Asian-American tirade. She quoted a book of 144,000 blank pages and she said, sometimes do you feel crazy? I was biting off my chicken. I said let&rsquo;s go through an exercise.</I></p><p>Someone is sleeping very peacefully in a bed next to you. Who is this person?</p> <p><i>A sculptor (from LA he said just visiting) listened to us. He said I&rsquo;m working on a 50 ft. bamboo thing. He said you should come by.</I></p><p>&ldquo;Early in Sarah Gambito&rsquo;s book, we learn that &lsquo;You cannot be in two places at once.&rsquo; In fact, the personality presented in these poems (they are personal poems; that is to say, they have their own unique and consistent personality) seems to have come from Elsewhere, on the way to Everywhere.&rdquo;&mdash;Keith Waldrop</p><p><b>Sarah Gambito</b> holds degrees from The University of Virginia and The Creative Writing Program at Brown University. Her poems have appeared in such journals as <i>The Iowa Review</I>, <i>The Antioch Review</I>, <i>The New Republic</I>, <i>Quarterly West</I> and <i>Fence</i>.</p></DIV>