The Lady at the Bank

These pieces should fly
instead of bark or for instance,
the future ought to open
into the right scenes
as being dispatched properly,
following a certain evolution.
The lady at the bank says
it is time to apply, to complete
forms for exile, igne combusta.
The embassies call each other
at home and say: flee, march, adapt.
Clerks drift to sleep
with the knowledge of long
summers in dreadful times,
even longer winters and nights
occupied in the worst dreams.
Fruits arrive on trees withered,
pickled in dust and weary tastes.
Rumours have it that garbage
is the first luxury of mankind
but few people know
until it is too late
and the rest are used to it.
You have to wonder
about the eyes sometimes.
Look hard at the old photographs
to find something there,
some little particle, reunions.
While counting blessings:
estimate the shipping weight,
resale value, insurance rates.
He apologizes by saying:
you are still a gypsy,
when will you get home?
These credentials in suitcases
labeled: hope, caution, trouble
are more than enough confidence.
There are still places
on the planet where we might
find a vacancy or try to wish for.