Traveling woes

Oh the joys of modern day traveling

There I was, a nice old lady,

White hair and bespectacled,

A bit confused as to which terminal

I was to check in for my flight

When a security gate popped up

In front of me

Dutifully I put my bags in the trays 

With my bracelets 

Passed through the gate

I started to collect my luggage

When a uniformed lady signalled to me

That she was going to open my bags 

Testing for explosives! 

Sure, why not? be my guest

When that was done with a negative result

To my great pleasure 

She insisted to scan my body

For traces of explosives.

When I asked her to repeat herself

She picked up on my accent, of course

I was so out of it, wondering how

I could have explosive traces on me

How does one know if one has or not?

As soon as one is in a public environment

One has no certitude whatsoever 

I was a bit vague answering her

She must have thought 

I was a person of interest

Unhappily for her, I was not

She left me for another potential prey

And I continued on my search for the right terminal.

I'm dreaming of a high-speed train 

Between Melbourne and Sydney

Which would put a stop 

To that complete nonsense

Of harassing the wrong persons

Nice dream, but only a dream.

Lucette C. Bailliet

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