The Key to the City

October 9, 1996

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.