Fragile Live Versions

Ragged in a stream of consciousness, hopefully

my own, otherwise I would hate

to be soaking in the remains of a stranger’s day

Curtains hang without covering, the sun is retired,

clothing peels onto the floor,

the concrete is raw, too heavy for any criticism

Personal territories? There are a few left to claim,

direct action uncovers a bathroom

already lit, back to bed to await text messages

Searching for a soundtrack for this falling through,

use of a rudimentary guitar opens up,

out-of-tune? I still choose to go onward and down

Ben Nardolilli currently an MFA candidate at Long Island University. 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.