Souvenir

I would like

to take something with me

but even one chair

is too awkward

too heavy

peeling paint

falls off in a suitcase

hinge sounds betray a theft

cheeses won’t keep

the clothespin

without its surroundings

would be mediocre

the big thunder rolled elsewhere

the umbrella is for sale

but in a desert what you want is a soaking

the do not disturb sign is tattered

I have many times taken

some cafe’s small packets of sugar

so that in Turkey

I might sweeten my coffee with China,

and in Italy remember a Lithuanian pastry

but where is the coffee

hands left and right useless

knees clattery

heart finally calm

as some hero at the end of a movie

squinting silently into the sun

you can’t hold an umbrella there anyhow

and what would he hang from the clothespin