Sunrise Trials of the Occupant by Ben Nardolilli

Waiting for a daybreak to remember,

the mornings that I’m waking up to now
are cold openings, and forgettable,
once, I could rise like a chinook,
to greet the day’s awaiting romance
but these matins, I slide out of the sheets,
like a snake made out of lead,
heavy, bulbous, and unable to see clear

The struggle afterwards brings no gift
or surprise behind the opening
and closing doors of apartment and train,
at work, coffee drips into waxy cups
with the same, unseasonal floral design,
at my desk I face an equilibrium
of paper piles, by nighttime, all I remember
is how the days have begun to rhyme.

Ben Nardolilli is a MFA candidate at Long Island University. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Door Is a Jar, The Delmarva Review, Red Fez, The Oklahoma Review, Quail Bell Magazine, and Slab. Follow his publishing journey at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com.