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, Local Train Magazine, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is trying to publish his novels.
She says I can have the lettuce and the spinach, They’re in the fridge, all green, picked, Ripened, and ready to be eaten, She says it’s good for me, I’ll get the necessary Vitamins, minerals, and roughage All the “good stuff” that helps build a good person Free of polysyllabic chemicals made by man She tells me they will change my life, via Changing my diet, which she assumes is rotten, It is, but I’m not about to eat Like a rodent and a thief for a week’s time All to gain a little bit of extra folic acid, or iron, Or whatever the nutrient de jour is, I eat my feels full and balanced, and processed too When she presses me, I respectfully corner her, Asking for the truth about these offerings, She tells me the truth, It’s not about my health or my well-being, She just bought too much, that’s all, for a salad And a stuffing she won’t ever make For a date who canceled on her for a funeral’s sake.
Cambyses in Brooklyn
When I devote my complete energies to anything, I become a king, this is what a full night’s sleep grants you, shall I conquer Egypt? Send chariots across the floodplains of Mesopotamia? tear down the dusty brick walls surrounding many a Jericho or the harbors of Tyre? Or perhaps I will set out into the evening to plunder local stores of their hard seltzer, get a quesadilla or two, and bring the proceeds back home, for a feast of bubbles and grease in my throne room, entertained by various animated figures moving across a screen
Formulae. not Thoughts and Ideas
Idea development killers, come to me, There’s too many suggestions, hints, and nodes Of things I could do, Temptations to put my current work aside And go off chasing another poem, another play, Another novel that captures What’s new in my life and the zeitgeist, updated It doesn’t matter how the block happens, As long as my old ideas remain, Smother the new ones, scare them away with fire, Then spread a circle of salt, or blood To keep seeds of notions from germinating in me, I’ve got enough outlines to follow for now, All I need is the time to fill them