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Washington Bridge Plan

By Benjamin Nardolilli

PROMPT — Who am I today?

The lights along the river are doing their best

to construct a rivalry, if not a duel

as the sun begins departing over the edge of New Jersey,

I’d like to know who set it up with a temptation to go

and seek some kind of fortune in the west,

what promises were made,

what enticements put on display?

was it a setup by the moon, a jealous intrigue

by a satellite claiming to be an agent or manager?

I can see the incentive for the trick,

it gives the moon a chance to peel off

a little bit of the sun’s glow and claim it as its own light,

the fee, perhaps, for telling the gas giant client

to get a move on and go Hollywood,

poor golden center of the nearby universe,

why can’t it be satisfied with this metropolis,

shining in place, as long as I am here?

Sure, this kettle is singing in its current glass house

that rolls through the tolls to the promise

of new watersheds and the possibility of distant seas,

I can only lament my lament, a symptom of my immunity

to any form of satiety in this city,

my condition taking me over the glittering buttresses

that bookend Harlem and North Hoboken,

the symptoms so bad, I need to take a bus

that is now one of millions of other sequins on the prowl

for the copper wiring of the American Dream


Ben Nardolilli is currently an MFA candidate at Long Island University. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, SLAB, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, The Northampton Review, Door Is A Jar Literary Magazine, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He writes from Brooklyn, NY. Follow Ben's publishing journey at


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