stops & searches

Routine Enquiries

At London Bridge I step onto
the escalator, stand in line.
Creeping slowly upwards,
late, greeted by a smile:
“I need to search you, Sir,
under section 44 of the Terrorism Act.”
Why me?
He wears helmet, stab-vest, steel-toed boots.
I’m in a yellow jacket, bright blue jeans;
hardly trying to blend in.
White skin usually does the job.
Open my bag: gloved hands go in.
Prodding and poking.
“Any clothes in here, Sir?”
Only my black balaclava.
“That’s my umbrella sleeve.”
His hand continues through its motions.
“D’you have any I.D. Sir?”
Reach for my provisional driving license.
Still need to learn.
“Right, Sir. I’d like to take your address, but
you’re free to catch your train. Sir.”

Silently I shut my wallet,
quickly zip up my bag
and put my earphones back in.


© Matthew Joseph Johnson, 2009