Heathrow Terminal 5

Yes, I survived Heathrow 
Verily even her Terminal Five 
The so-monikered T5 
But in order to thwart 
The luggage-imbibing properties 
Of T5's youthful inexperience 
And her teething troubles 
I took my own baggage onboard with me 
Carrying, lugging, feeling the weight 
At the security zone I paused 
In a Wait A Minute sort of way 
Noticing a flashing video display of books 
High above the lower realms 
Where liquids and gels 
Must be separated 
And fanny packs 
Are patted down 
And I did make a digital record 
A facsimile documentation 
Of the bibliocentric sight 
Of books seven metres wide 
In virtual advertisement 
Of British culture in general 
And commercial enthusiasm in particular 
Whereupon my person was approached 
By personnel of the security persuasion 
Sidling backward backward toward me 
To make sure their eyes 
Would scan me every millisecond 
Lest I escape 
Lest I escape 
Announcing to me 
And to my effervescent lasting shame 
That I had broken rules and regs 
Of Heathrow 
And of security zones everywhere 
In taking a "picture" 
So her Securityness watched 
With destructive care 
As on command 
I deleted the very image of books 
From my virtual memory 
Thereby tumbling into treason 
A librarian told to be a William Tell 
To shoot the apple 
Off the head of his child 
Or the image of books 
Off his soul. 

I cannot show you 
That image 


            - Richard Hacken