Ben Nardolilli currently lives in New York City. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, The Northampton Review, Slab, and The Minetta Review. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is trying to publish his novels.
The Nardolilli Review
Reading through last night’s dispatches, gifts sent from me
in the past to me in the present,
the results are mixed, but always interesting,
I guess I lost the ability to spell sometime around midnight
The voice is unrecognizable, the themes fluctuate,
these insights and opinions refuse to stay focused and wander,
they start with politics, surge on to art,
then crash land into a slurry of existential ruminations
Memories begin to bleed through the last of the text messages,
a darkness gains its light, and teases me
with hints of a world between the pavement and bed,
where I was paranoid, garrulous, and preoccupied with death
Reading through last night’s dispatches, gifts sent from me
in the past to me in the present,
the results are mixed, but always interesting,
I guess I lost the ability to spell sometime around midnight
The voice is unrecognizable, the themes fluctuate,
these insights and opinions refuse to stay focused and wander,
they start with politics, surge on to art,
then crash land into a slurry of existential ruminations
Memories begin to bleed through the last of the text messages,
a darkness gains its light, and teases me
with hints of a world between the pavement and bed,
where I was paranoid, garrulous, and preoccupied with death
Just to Let You Know What Is Up
Before or after, or prior to whatever
aftermath there remains now,
the good fat of the universe is on display,
it’s about community, the cosmos,
taking a moment to not
stuff more words inside of your brain
Usually, we search for voices
which agree with us, instead of genuflecting
before the extraordinary mundane,
no need to seek conversation
with the rest of the three-dimensional world,
the background is available to us all
Look up in silence, it’s an atmosphere
of acceptance and mutual respect,
remember to first rub it on your hands,
then on your face,
before trying to read it, here, you are safe
never waking while dreams continue
Before or after, or prior to whatever
aftermath there remains now,
the good fat of the universe is on display,
it’s about community, the cosmos,
taking a moment to not
stuff more words inside of your brain
Usually, we search for voices
which agree with us, instead of genuflecting
before the extraordinary mundane,
no need to seek conversation
with the rest of the three-dimensional world,
the background is available to us all
Look up in silence, it’s an atmosphere
of acceptance and mutual respect,
remember to first rub it on your hands,
then on your face,
before trying to read it, here, you are safe
never waking while dreams continue
"Just to let you know... " the first line pulled me into the poem, and "to not
ReplyDeletestuff more words inside of your brain... " kept me going to the end. I enjoyed this poem.