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Is This Your Bag Please Would You Open It
The moment you know they are about to find something
pushing aside the mini marmalades
withdrawing the curler with latex fingers
folding a flap folding back another flap
your underwear grinning not getting the situation
placed inside a box PROPERTY OF HEATHROW;
it isn’t personal though it sure feels
like it’s personal when a man asks you
how long you spent in Romania when moments ago
you said you were in London and packed your own
bag who else would pack your fucking bag
but he thinks it’s charming
to get things wrong or maybe professional
to run on a hunch he swipes the straps
for a bomb test banters while your bras
feel badly for you they never wanted this in spite
of their lace finally he finds the toiletries case delays
the pleasure of admonishing you for Alice-sized lotions
stolen from hotels into another box they go
it’s a job remember you can’t take it personally
if he hands you his number on a food court receipt
prettiest terrorist I’ve seen all day
is this your privacy and can he . . .
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Maya C. Popa is the author of Wound Is the Origin of Wonder (Norton, 2022) and American Faith (Sarabande, 2019). She is the Poetry Reviews Editor of Publishers Weekly and a PhD candidate at Goldsmiths, University of London, writing on the role of wonder in poetry.
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Francesca Woodman, Untitled, from the series Space2, Providence, Rhode Island,1976.
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