For two weeks I had heaven,
The smooth spinning wheels
And seats given freely to love.
There were destinations
And no expense could be lost,
Heaven was fueled by savings.
Once the road ran dry
And the destination jumped up,
I had to bring heaven back.
I traded it for hell,
A urine stained lesser vehicle
Squeaky with square wheels.
When there was no place
To reach, no need to open the doors,
I slept in it with windows down.
Six months of hell
And now they let me trade it in,
I suspect they’ll savage the parts.
The engine does not slow down
Or tolerate speeding up,
This is real life or purgatory.
Either way there is a wheel
Under my fingertips
Made of ordinary leather.
BEN NARDOLILLI is a twenty three year old writer currently living in New York City. His work has appeared in Houston Literary Review, Perigee Magazine, Canopic Jar, and Lachryma: Modern Songs of Lament, Baker’s Dozen, Thieves Jargon, Farmhouse Magazine, Elimae, Poems Niederngasse, The Delmarva Review, Underground Voices Magazine, SoMa Literary Review, Heroin Love Songs, Shakespeare’s Monkey Revue, Literary Fever, and Perspectives Magazine. In addition he was the poetry editor for West 10th Magazine at NYU and maintains a blog at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com.
