Low Risk Fuel
Paramedics, attend to this body,
open up your stretcher arms
and take me with you on a healing route
to a bed at last,
put me in a vehicle blaring and bright,
just as fierce and fast at those flames
which set their embers in me
I got out early, among the first,
but I pressed plenty of bad buttons
on the way down,
every time the doors opened up for me
I was on a burning mezzanine,
escape was difficult, I laid down chords
and tripped over half of them
Go ahead, take him and her away,
if you think they are worse,
mottled with damage and losing parts,
my diagnosis is no telescope,
I will stay here at the site and continue
to feel my future melting,
looking at the fire I left behind.
About the Author: 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.
More by Ben Nardolilli:
Image Credit: “VIEW OF ELEVATOR SHAFT FROM FIRST FLOOR TO SKYLIGHT, LOOKING SKYWARD, NORTH” The Library of Congress
As It Ought To Be 