The Key to the City
Is to scratch out a piece of green
and to build something out of it,
to carry yourself so well that doors
open for you anyway. Travel light,
or at least as quick as light. Drop
nothing as you go but an occasional
small petal, a wrinkled bill of sale.
Don't look at yourself in storefronts,
else you're tempted by what you see
to buy something. Feed what needs
feeding. Grease what squeaks. Trim
what needs trimming. Should a branch
break, carry it on route, and shake
it behind you to cover your tracks.