Watch your belongings! Watch your baggage! Watch that turban hanging from his bandage!
Security guards stumble, fist to fist.
Heads banging on walls
Echoing their empty ticks.
Did you pack that bag yourself sir? Did you lock that key?
Can I see some of your identification please?
I wait, while shiny badges comes into focus
A melancholy sniff, a sigh into sadness.
And there I sigh and wait for his words to spill forth,
A single syntax to show me the way north.
There will be a walk this way sir, comes the tap tap of his stick,
A lean in his step.
A curl on his bludgeoned mitt.
I know not what you have wrot, for this I am unsure,
Just follow this way and all will be cured.
I cringe as I weave
Words shuddering through my syllabled court.
And there waiting in the lie of eye,
A breath cajoled in contort.
There will be no argument sir,
For please heed this advice.
No trouble for me,
But for you:
There shall be thrice.
An eye flicks as his fellows shift side to step.
Hands reaching for cold metal,
A death within the next.
I scream retort, tounge blinded by light:
My mind it bleeds, a cognition it seethes!
A heresy on my life, for it is a bane on my knife!
Know my name you scum for it will be yours to wait!
A hissed forked tongue,
Shiny apple innate.
I smile and nod, knowing what waits beyond his heckled grin.
Crystallized teeth chattering
Incessant relief of too many words spoken since.
I bend to my knees as silence graces my face.
The empty barrel clicks.
The music escapes.