Security Threat

The security guard takes the notebook

out of my bag

and flips the pages.

“What are you looking for?”

I ask him.

“There’s always something…”

he says,

“…you never know.”

Then my flights of fancy take wing

and I’m telling myself to feel flattered

with the illusion that my idle scribbles

pose some kind of active threat.

Or that I would have been simply overjoyed

if he had replied with a single word –

( “What are you looking for ? ” )

“Answers.”