- Published on Thursday, 06 November 2014 15:35
by Ben Nardolilli
A code is tabled up in the sky that we live out,
Bright suns of night mixed with the stretches
Of days which only shadows occupy,
Against the brick walls we rest or plot or scream
In accordance with the symbolism that drifts
Over the cracked horizon of our buildings’ decline.
Certain days we find full support and open streets,
With doors that are capable of moving aside
Through the expert notions of our knives,
Red reigns violently and we pay tribute with kicks
And slammed trashcans rolling in the alleys,
The moon then contributes its neon to our delinquency.
Sky, save us from the lull which brings stagnation,
Drags us coughing down the sidewalks
And across privately owned panels of hardwood,
Whatever is up there signaling, break the code
To keep the lights burning for each hour,
All the lightning you can manage for us, send it down.
Trying to make something out of this moonlight,
Since the orb produces no music like a speaker,
I find blue seas, fallen skies, atmospheres
Down on their luck and pending for a renewal,
I notice a halo and see a face in between
The trees unable to show its features over branches.
All I can offer is a knot that bends into itself,
In love with its own dark complications,
A composition reaching out for illusions of space
But really just making more loops for itself
To keep whatever spirit it possesses
From leaking out through the grand gutter ahead.
Planes of movement are closed off bus routes
Are being carved out of the darkness,
The pearl in the sky gives off enough of a glare
To show me where the sidewalks begin
And where there are spaces to walk with no cars
Trying to shake the asphalt under me into pieces.
Days of Morning
We lay our ribcages down side
By side and stare up at the ceiling,
Like ships docked in place,
We are ready to receive the cargo
Of a new day which cracks a dawn
Across the eggshell white
Maximum height of the shared room,
One day we may call this a cell
Look, but more importantly, listen,
I treat my time with you as a donation
Towards a more permanent union
And an American lung association.