Calling this a roomette seems unfair, limiting it
to the simulation of a hotel’s four stationary walls,
a brief survey of the assigned territory reveals
potential hiding in this slice of a train car, it is more
than just an insufficient efficiency to sleep in, or a prison
where I am sentenced to watch the world roll on by
After the door is closed, there is potential to relive
the minor spells and adventures of childhood,
when I could transform any sufficiently well-lit nook
into a portal for places lost or yet to come,
conjuring up a passport to get through an afternoon
of suburban drudgeries and other powerless situations
Though I bought the ticket and chose this ride,
I still slip away, drifting as a cosmonaut in a capsule,
followed by scenes of the anchorite life, until
the blue curtains over the bed become my Bedouin tent,
and when it is time to leave for the dining car,
I imagine that a phalanstery or kibbutz awaits me
About Ben Nardolilli:
Ben Nardolilli is a theoretical 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.