The forgiven past
is a foreign past
and I don’t have
a passport to go there

Not that I would go,
sneaking in illegally
or passing legally
through paperwork

I am a citizen
of a sour present,
my right to sulk
protected by its laws

What do other lands
offer me?
What role do they
present to a traveler?

This country gives me
cynical comforts
and angry anthems
I am familiar with

Loyally indignant,
I return all invitations
and hide from envoys
behind bitter borders.

© Ben Nardolilli

Ben Nardolilli is 32 and  currently lives in New York City. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, fwriction, Inwood Indiana, Pear Noir, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is looking to publish a novel.