AT FOREIGN
AT FOREIGN
Ben Nardolilli
Out alone with my bag friends,
I gush and shout to them,
We’re all expats here,
>From Iowa to San Francisco,
Especially after we turn 30.
The basement is nothing
Foreign to us, especially at night,
Roofs and attics are graceful,
But we take to the cool dark
If that is all we can swim into.
We sleep past mentions of us
Because it is a necessity,
Faking chains and franchises,
We attempt at trending,
So our names can reach to China.
©2012 This work is the property of the author.
Posted on October 10, 2012, in Ben Nardolilli, POETRY and tagged AT FOREIGN, Poems, poetry. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.
Misfits' Miscellany 
The last poem of Ben’s first batch of submissions. I don’t know about China, but MM’s readers are from around the world, so…
Read Ben’s other poems by clicking the link:
https://misfitsmiscellany.wordpress.com/category/ben-nardolilli/
Ben’s elective affinity for language reach deeply into our own feelings of place, time and humanity with a pure poetry of unaffected modernity, yet phrasing out from his commonsense voice that dazzles us with mind blowing inventions which allows us to reach out on a higher realm of thought. Congratulations!