A Subversive Technophile and Client Launch

A Subversive Technophile

I came here with a blown transmission
and translation, made whole
by a hole above my heart, hands clapped,
“how wonderfuls!” rained down,
apparently the crowd was convinced
it was all just a dance for the benefit
of the distributees of the city

The acclimations were the afterbirth
of an accident: I sang a song of exhaustion,
which gave them the music to go by,
while the dance was only a march
of tired footsteps losing all control,
it swayed me across sidewalks
and the wood floors of assorted living rooms

I have left those stages behind,
but I built a fan base sick with a loyalty
that neither supports nor cools me,
their former delight is my present curse,
overheating me via their handling
and destabilizing me with praise,
whenever I try to speak, they start to clap.




Client Launch

Validation failures, I asked
For the certificate, never got it,
Not even a ticket,
There are places to go,
All of them
Too comfortable to taste

The morning bites, the sun
Clips when it bothers to show,
Some kind of guilt
Turns my heart into a pulley,
Simple machines, they work

Others keep hacking
And cracking the passwords,
All of it legitimate,
I code myself a poet, sometimes,
But I still feel like a thief.




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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