Three Poems by Ben Nardolilli

Set the Dark

You once came to the beam city
Following evening amulets,
Leave it, you cannot hope to grow
Where you have been buried,
Around you are sacred powers,
To render you into content
That cannot be transformed.

That peculiar contradiction
Of happy poverty, free of sorrows
That empty stomachs know,
This tune you hardly found,
But even if there was a continent
You could look right under,
Bohemia is smiling into a dusty mirror.

Go out and take notice
Of your parents’ constant mouths,
Hammered from highballs,
They found their independence,
These elders are appropriate mascots,
Imagine such a place
Where inebriation brings liberties.

Things That Should Remain On Facebook

The cyberspace mafia,
And the virtual reality crimes
Of bodies broken, cars stolen,
Evidence to dispose of
On someone else’s wall,
Facebook can keep it,
Along with the farms
That won’t stop growing
And the imaginary kitchens,
But a lady with green eyes
Can always come along
To poke me in real life.

The Skin is Holy

We are giddy with lurching,
Coming close to the edge
Of the real world’s decline
And rebirth into a caprice:
The only fantasy we can have,
A simple wish for a universe
That shakes and trembles
Like a spider’s web as we move,
Where everything is connected,
Including us at this tarnished bar.

Ben Nardolilli is a twenty-five-year-old writer currently living in Montclair, New Jersey. His work has appeared in The Houston Literary Review, Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, One Ghana One Voice, Baker’s Dozen, Thieves Jargon, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, Poems Niederngasse, Gold Dust, Scythe, Anemone Sidecar, The Delmarva Review, Contemporary American Voices, SoMa Literary Review, Gloom Cupboard, Shakespeare’s Monkey Revue, Black Words on White Paper, and Beltway Poetry Quarterly. He maintains a blog at