The Elephant in the Drawing Room: Joseph S. Salemi on the Fight for Formal Verse

In the contemporary literary landscape, where free verse often drifts into what can be described as a bottomless whirlpool of aesthetic relativism, finding a steady anchor is rare. Joseph S. Salemi, a poet, editor, and professor, stands firmly on the bedrock of rhyme and meter. As the editor of TRINACRIA, a vanguard journal for formalist poetry, Salemi operates not merely as a publisher but as a counter-cultural force, challenging the “Mainstream Mediocrity” of the modern poetic establishment.

The Architecture of Reason

For Salemi, the adherence to rhyme and meter is not a matter of nostalgia; it is a defense of Western identity. He equates traditional poetry with other disciplines of high culture—figurative painting, tonal music, and intelligible philosophy. These forms speak to rational human beings in a way that shapeless, modern expressionism often fails to do.

The rejection of form by the current academic and literary establishment is, in Salemi’s view, a conscious denigration of these traditions. The prejudice against structure is visceral, yet he maintains that the rigorous architecture of verse is essential for rhetorical power. He cites lines from Joaquin Miller’s Columbus as an example of the kind of resonant, structural power that is largely absent in today’s “garbage art.”

Joseph S. Salemi

A Sicilian Inheritance

Salemi’s devotion to form is deeply rooted in his lineage. Although he has never visited the island, all four of his grandparents hailed from Sicily, a region with a profound claim to poetic history. Tradition holds that the sonnet itself was invented by the Sicilian Giacomo da Lentini in the 13th century at the court of Emperor Frederick II.

This heritage was transmitted directly through his grandfather, Rosario Previti, a Sicilian poet and translator. The sounds of Sicilian and Italian verse were omnipresent in Salemi’s childhood, complemented by his mother’s readings of Beowulf, Poe, and Masefield. This early immersion created an indelible understanding of how poetry works—not just as emotion, but as sound and craft. He notes that in Italy, the saying persists: “If you want to hear good poetry, come to Sicily, because she holds the banner of victory.”

The Editor as Antagonist

In 2009, Salemi founded TRINACRIA with a specific mission: to provide a platform where he was the sole editorial authority, free from committee dilution. The journal was established in conscious opposition to the ubiquitous “brainless enthusiasm” and “glassy-eyed emotionalizing” of contemporary verse.

The journal also serves as a corrective to the political homogeneity of the literary world. Salemi observed that “left-wing political correctness” was systematically excluding conservative or right-wing writers, turning American poetry into a closed corporation despite its claims of diversity. TRINACRIA prides itself on being the “Elephant in the Drawing Room”—publishing material that other reviews are too timid to touch.

The Craft of the Satirist

Salemi’s own creative process demystifies the romantic notion of the “Muse.” He views inspiration as a metaphor for a mental process that varies among artists. For him, a poem often begins with a single, perfect line of meter—a seedling from which the rest of the work grows.

His motivations range from capturing a lost memory to explaining an abstruse point, though his satiric pieces are often fueled by “sheer anger and hatred.” This intensity drives the work, but the execution remains disciplined. He drafts quickly, revisits later for revision, and relies on a vast internal library of influences, from Chaucer and Shakespeare to the biting wit of Dryden and Pope.

Lessons from the Trenches

Operating TRINACRIA for over a decade has provided Salemi with a grim view of the “po-biz” world, which he describes as populated by careerists, grant-scroungers, and political bullies. He rejects Shelley’s famous assertion that poets are the “unacknowledged legislators of the world,” arguing that poets in power would be disastrous.

Instead, the lessons he imparts are stoic and individualistic: follow your own aesthetic taste ruthlessly, ignore negative criticism, and disregard ill-advised praise. In a literary environment that demands conformity, Salemi’s enduring advice is to remain unafraid to print—and say—anything.