poetry by – Ben Nardolilli /art by Chad Swanson
Cross My Name off the Petition
What does it take to win?
Maybe I can stop the supermarket
From selling gun magazines to kids,
Then again, what would a ban
Do other than make forbidden fruit
Bloom where there is already produce?
Anyway, it might distract
The youths from the kind of racy
Material which they should sneak
Away and smuggle out for private use,
I do not want them fetishizing barrels,
Only butts than come with bodies.
Something Quite Geometric
A black bird flying
Low and high
Between the painted
Rocks of the cliff
A new knowledge
Comes with the wings,
The beak piercing
The dry blue sky
I am not just
Walking by the river,
I am in a canyon
Deep enough for flight.
Holy Land Retreat
Egyptian vultures circle overhead,
They have crossed the border, unlike me,
But they do not change their name
Based on the airspace they may inhabit.
I sit under the Aleppo pines and Syrian
Junipers which grow in these hills
Far away from their original sources,
I take in their shade and try to keep still.
I do not fear becoming fresh prey
For the birds that cycle above the groves,
I only want to bore them so they fly away,
Arid landscapes are best with a clear sky.
– Ben Nardolilli (firstname.lastname@example.org)