A POEM BY TIEL AISHA JACKSON

I. NO DIRECTIONS
No-one will draw you a map
of what’s around the corner, under the hedge,
behind the door, behind your back, behind your eyes
closer to you than your jugular vein.
Travel by subtle ways.
Embark at the stations of the heart.
Your ticket’s in hand. The board says:
GOD TRAIN LEAVING NOW
ALL PLATFORMS OPEN SEATING
All aboard.

II. THE FINE PRINT
Don’t expect to find
yourself. More likely
you will lose your mind.
Don’t hold on too tightly.
Leave the baggage in the baggage car.
Go lightly.
Don’t remember where you are.
Let someone else remind
you that you’ve come so far—
and don’t expect to find
yourself.