The Poetry of Ben Nardolilli

Sky Warden

I put the stars on house arrest,

They were too bright for me,

All that make-up is a distraction,

The hydrogen glitter they wear.

They keep together in gangs,

Write tattoos across the skies,

I tell them to break it up, but

It’s no use telling stars to do anything.


Your brain contains brains,

And the rain has its rains,

But Maine has no Maines.

Still Seated

I think and I have to do something,

though paralyzed from inquiry
I did not see them immediately,

in the city approaching the doors this weekend.

I was planning to be removed

so we stopped at the grass and again,
we heard sure that our species

saw the shards of glass

She wanted to say, amen!
she did not mind

the photographs

she wanted to withdraw

A haze of the absence of dinosaurs

this was an interesting week

the rise and fall of the one on the walls

I suggested that we drop her at idealism

A big mistake,

she can only come from commitment,

voluntary suffering

before the exhibition

Ben Nardolilli

is a 23 year old writer, currently living in Arlington, Virginia. His work has appeared in the Houston Literary Review, Perigee Magazine, Canopic Jar, Lachryma: Modern Songs of Lament, Baker’s Dozen, Thieves Jargon, Farmhouse Magazine, Elimae, Poems Niederngasse, Gold Dust, The Delmarva Review, Underground Voices Magazine, SoMa Literary Review, Heroin Love Songs, Shakespeare’s Monkey Revue, Cantaraville, and Perspectives Magazine. He was also the poetry editor for West 10th Magazine at NYU. You can keep up with Ben.ardo @

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