“I am where I am”
- Kerry Shawn Keys
Sir, your passport please.
When a bird flies through the air
where are its footprints.
I said, Sir, your passport.
When I held her goodbye, breath
on her hair, the wind took with her
all memory of other desire.
You can’t enter this country, Sir,
if you don’t comply with the regulations.
I’ve complied with the dark,
licked clean as a light
with no leaf to shine in.
Come this way.
Daylight, Sir, is an animal
stuck in a circle of snow and mud. Blood
for ink, stencils for eyes. My feet
are not mine. Color of heart: blind.
There is a problem, Hombre, you can’t leave
without name or passport.
Without roots or dreams, there’s no problem
of coming or going. I am where I am.
Today I saw a stuffed frog under glass,
a uniform with a gun, purple flowers,
and a stone turtle in the park.