poetry quarterly

10th anniversary


Ben Nardolilli



I have a weary gal,
Who on occasion
Breathes sweet to me

She lets her blood
Out for faith,
Weary, weary,

Early on her voice
Seemed like dreams
Gold has in mountains.

She was once a serf
Of the train,
Now, the automobile.

The country was a home,
Done no wrong,
It may still be true.

Now almost dead,
It seems, still plain,
But she is not as tall.

I fell in a rot of graft,
Just like her, America,
Is now dark as me.

The slim tree rises
And grabs new gold
In the sunset we watch.

Is this when we strike
With mighty daring,
My darling America?


Ben Nardolilli's work has been published in Houston Literary Review, One Ghana One Voice, The Delmarva Review, Poems Niederngasse, and Perigee Magazine. He was poetry editor for West 10th Magazine at New York University. He lives in Arlington, VA, and blogs at http://mirrorsponge.blogspot.com.


Published in Volume 12, Number 1, Winter 2011.