By Ben Nardolilli
I was completely out of cash,
I still am, but damn it
This is a story and the past
Is what sets it apart from the others,
Anyway, there was no
Machine for miles,
But I knew a deadly secret
Whose beans I can’t spill now
Unless you want to stick around,
In the short run,
I got back on track, the route
Of which has led back to you,
Short story long?
The split over the difference
Caused a fight over the veracity
Of the bills I managed to bring
To the floor of the laundromat,
Change went everywhere,
And my trust in God with it,
Twelve inquisitions
Were necessary to restore order,
Anyway, this is the how
And slightly the why,
Of where this extra finger came from.
Ben Nardolilli currently lives in New York City. 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 a novel.
