Tourists
by Evan Shultz
We began life on vacation
From heaven, our valises
Packed with things
Invisible, squeezing out
Of our maternal taxis,
(Better as a camel), entering a
Starlit city. The customs
Are strange. Walk, talk,
Breathe (here they must breathe air), Drink,
Eat. The customs
Officers confiscate our passports.
"You are dust," they say. "Live
As dust," they say.
Play, then from Play
To Learn, then from Learn
To Work, so you can eat, so you can
Work, so you can buy ("Don't drink
The commercialism," warns the travel guide.)
Work, so you can stop, so you can
Remember (Can you remember?)
And remembering, return
Home. That's the trip. ("Find
The time to love here," says the travel guide. "It's
expensive, but so
Worth it.") Nice place
To visit. Just remember:
They don't like tourists here.