Airport security

Checked in, on the way back,
mazed, lined, ready to screen,

guard grabs pack, digs deep
for weed, bombs, illegal snacks.

Hum a tune as uniformed dudes,
latex-gloved, red wands alert,

gives young blonde a private search.
Feet planted on rubber pads,

legs spread, like waving wheat
she sways golden behind plexiglass.

Arms out, eyes shut tight --
wand glides past ankles, knees,

traces breasts, tummy, hips,
thighs. Guards grin, wands fold,

crumpled pack arrives,
airport security, satisfied.



Timothy Pilgrim