The Japanese form of poetry known as haiku conveys observations about nature and/or boneheadosity in a 17-syllable verse. Traditionally, haiku are expressed in three non-rhyming lines of five, seven and five syllables. Here is a rare example of an ancient haiku screed, unearthed near Tokyo by a Japanese uneartherman.

At the TSA
If we seem less than friendly
Tough. Bwa-ha-ha.

On behalf of fear,
Thank you for being afraid.
Don’t pretend you’re not.

What’s an airport for
If not to remind one of
Kafka or Birdman?

Line up like cattle.
To the knacker’s yard you go,
Slouching toward steak-ums.

From this point on, please,
No jokes, no smiles, no mooning.
It scares the friskers.

If you don’t look like
A terrorist that makes us
Very suspicious.

But if you look like
A terrorist, do you think
We are that stupid?

Please remove your shoes
Because they are a perfect
Place to hide a foot.

Place keys, wallet, phone,
Hat, coat, pants, hopes, dreams, false nose
In lifeless gray bin.

Glum friskers feel up
Your life, your guilt, your bulges.
Why? Because they can.

Without us, a mad
Bomber, faking sanity,
Could get on the plane.

With us, all bombers
Must be sane! No exceptions.
We are not kidding!

Oh, wonder of flight!
You rise like holy angels
On frisk-scented wings.

At home, in luggage,
You find note: “We pawed your stuff.
Hulk jammies? Really?”

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2015, all rights reserved.