cold sweats in an immigration queue
i've everything & nothing to declare

hand trembles as it pushes a passport
over the ledge into the hand of fate

a process designed to inspire nervous
twitches/recognisable warning signs

asked for evidence of forward journey
(as if mere mortality were not enough

then subjected to a crotch pat-down
luggage rearrangements & repackings

an apology & our tidy duet with zips
questions as to future itineraries—

drinking habits employment situation
sniffing at feet & padded jackets ...

is this why they call it 'customs'?
shoes removed & arms outstretched ...

some meditative pose while minions
search your person for spirit-ghosts