Passport

 

Half down a long smooth corridor I turned to check

Who I was supposed to be meeting, what I should plead

As the purpose of my visit, length of stay,

And my destination. But there was no-one to ask.

So I just carried on

Hoping someone would tell me, or I’d find a clue

In the codes on my documentation

Or the false heel of a shoe

 

Anyway, they let me in

Stamping my passport with “indefinite stay”

And then I wandered round the streets making notes

And taking photos to elucidate

What I should do and who I was.

Finally I’ve come to a door

That looks familiar, and the signs on it, though damaged,

Could be a reference to shining shores

Where travellers in the past have managed

To find a boat, to watch the moving oars.

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2 Comments

  1. Very Kafkaesque. Reminds me of Kafka’s the “Before the Law” in some respects. Being somewhere but not knowing why. A normal situation beset by abnormality.

    Excellent work. Very much enjoyed.

    Reply
  2. Thanks, skyraftwanderer. I hadn’t thought of Kafka in this context, but it’s apt. I often think much Kafka – particularly The Trial – reads like a dream, a sequence of events you have little control over, that you sense have some internal logic you don’t understand and an absence of colour and touch.
    I intended among other things to suggest the experience of being in the world, a strange place, with a sense of purpose but no knowledge of what the purpose is – maybe Kafka’s gate into the Castle!

    Reply

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