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May 1
My hands do things I’m not aware of

They hide my keys
In the pockets
Of freshly laundered pants

Behind
Under
Inside many
Many
Pieces of furniture

Dangling from my bicycle lock
(For 3 hours)

Hanging from the front door lock
(All day long)

By a flower growing
In the crack
Of a sidewalk
That I had knelt down
To examine

In the fridge
Yeah
I know

My hands lock my keys up
In the backyard shed

In the trunk of a car

In a car’s ignition
With the motor running
No joke

And of course
Inside my house
While I am
Outside my house

One day my hands
Unbeknownst to me
Will lock all of the doors
And throw all of the keys
Away
Written by
Jean-François Daignault  46/M/Montréal, Québec, Canada
(46/M/Montréal, Québec, Canada)   
108
   BR Dragos
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