The Song of the Mad Prince: A Portrait
My tactful souvenirs remain intact,
Despite the uncouth movements of the circus,
The new tenants of this regime
Circulate in place, they brought their thunder
While I tried to make lightning last night.
The party for the flood tore us apart
With a new form of chaos to contend with,
I put up shelves around the house
And hoped to impress away my enemies
Through a color-coded canon.
This was karma as it looked then,
A reunion came later, earlier this morning,
The listeners restored true peace,
Everyone got to explain their side until
Everyone realized there were no sides at all.
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, fwriction, Inwood Indiana, Pear Noir, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is looking to publish a novel.
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