Crossing The Border(For Lyn) Poem by Dónall Dempsey

A swallow
crosses the border

without being spotted
by the border guards.

Two clouds
make a dash

for it

but are caught
in a tourist photograph

as they are half-way
across.

A leaf
waltzes over

(but without a passport)

is obliged to
waltz on

right back over

A
as the wind changes
its mind.

An ant
is forced back

by an imaginary line

that exists
only in men’s minds

& doesn’t register
on the satellite photo

taken just that second.

the satellite now
the other side

of the world

the moon on its left

stars thinking of
nothing

but themselves.

Meanwhile
back on earth

the border guard

(the border shimmers in the heat
begins to melt....sticks to our footsteps)

gazes at my photo
gazes at my self

gazes
for it seems
ages.

Hacks, spits: hits
an insect

on the left hand side
of its head

by mistake
‘though he pretends
he meant it.

His gold tooth
gleams.

The insect
stops in its tracks

thinks: “Wot de fu**! ”

Pauses: accesses
the situation

& designs to risk it
& go on.

It goes on.

“You, look...”
(he gobs)
...nothing like you! ”

He informs
my photograph.

I feel I am
eavesdropping in on
their conversation.

“I haven’t been
my self
for a long long
time now! ”

I admit.

“Shit! I got
a nut! ”

He turns & spits.
(God! I wish he wouldn’t keep on doing that!)

His gold tooth
gleams.

A dribble of brown
tobacco spit glistens on his chin.

He waves me on
not wanting

the bother
or to bother.

And so
I cross

the border.