Holy, Holy Is the Lord of Edges
by Ben Nardolilli
They are trying to turn an asshole into a martyr
down in the electric agora,
I don’t know what they’re drinking or smoking there,
I try to keep away from that side of the polis
as much as possible, the wine is better in the hills.
I give it a year until he’s deified completely,
there will be a temple dedicated,
a statue raised up, his name will appear again
and again in prayers as sacrifices are made
so his fury is satiated against mortals down below.
Of course, we won’t get a holiday in his name,
the ones who puppeted him before on golden strings
hate the idea of our labors lost
to a day off away from the grind and the stoking,
the carrying, the baking, all the sweating for their coin.
Ben Nardolilli is a scrivener and 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, JMWW, Quail Bell Magazine, and Slab. Follow his publishing journey at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and on Instagram @ssenjaminnardolilli.
Image Credit: desire [] and Aphrodite (2026) by Natasha Zinos
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