“Mess from a Fallen Church” by Ben Nardolilli

Mess from a Fallen Church



Hypnotized by the personal,
My mission is obscure,
Fighting for air
The speaker can never be
Some kind of therapeutic
You leave out a lot,
Early personal memories


Do I romanticize
This fiction I collected?

The artifice of spontaneity
Enables me to mention things.

What is history?
Not avoiding injury.

There is an element
I am going to turn


We are everything,
One man, one woman,
Only connected
When on the whole balance
Of the 19th century scale

We learn the spirit
If we see a light,
I shut my eyes to keep free


Interested in craft,
I have never tried yet
I have always failed
A lifetime’s study.

I said I wanted another title,
Impressions, structures,
The critic keeps pointing out,
It might get better.

Benjamin Nardolilli


Ben Nardolilli currently lives in Arlington, Virginia. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, fwriction, THEMA, Pear Noir, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He has a chapbook Common Symptoms of an Enduring Chill Explained, from Folded Word Press. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is looking to publish his first novel.


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