Do not endeavor
to snapshot the locals.
Do not trust anything
that could snap shut.
Try to pass quickly
through slipshod locales.
Do not give alms.
Make no eye contact.
Do not confuse
yourself with your reflection,
this span of ruins with a system,
this inn with a place to come back to.
Rein in the impulse to build
a new city from these scattered twigs.
Do not poke around in the abandoned
houses of the damaged village.
Do not get curious
about shiny metal in the grass.
Do not plant kisses
on the blind accordionist.
Leave the mermaid alone,
it is not meant to be.
You will cause offense.
You will not hear the knob turn.
You will wake to find stones in your mouth
and a lake in each eye.
Do not ring the concierge.
Do not search for the consulate.
Regard every centimeter
of ground as suspicious.
Trains are essentially useless.
The timetable lies.
Each day you are
bound to lose something.
Each day you are
bound to lose something.
Do not meander too far
from a given road's shoulder.
Owning a car does not give
you the clearance to drive.
~Michael Dumanis
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