Before I am allowed on the island / I am required to clean my shoes. / All traces of dirt must be gone, / sneakers scrubbed, mud knocked / from boot-grooves. The island needs protection / from other living things; our guilty soles / are packed full of microscopic seeds. Last year / two lizard species went extinct / in the wild. The culprit: an invasive snake, / far from home and hungry. No animal / too big to cross the enormous distance. / In the worst stories it is as easy as jelly- / fish sucked into ballast water. See: / my friend was declared a biohazard / when she arrived with a thorn in her finger. / When I clear customs I am my old self, / irascible, unable to forgive my mother. / The impossibility of containment / exhausts me. To sin is second nature– / easy lies on the customs form when memory / fails, the unreported green smear / on my suitcase wheels. I am far from home / and still the same tired animal / practicing flight, practicing survival.