I have no passport
in my back pocket.

Empty as the land I left but my blood
is half pure to the half-land I land in.

I have no passport
in my back pocket.

But my eyes are full of beautiful mud
my hands are soft, but too rough to lie in.

I have no passport
in my back pocket.

It says it loves me and yet I taste cud
motherland, and yet, step-motherland dim. 

I have no passport
in my back pocket.

Roughly torn down ticket-thicker than blood?
and I don't care to search the skin I'm in.

I have no passport
in my back pocket
I have no passport
in my front pocket
and still they let me in.