Sir? Your passport, sir. Please place it on the screen.
And… [beep!] …Oh good, it looks like you are clean.
Now, if you don’t mind, a quick evaluation.
(You know how it is: Safety through regulation.)
According to this you haven’t been to many places.
You had a dinner out last week—how was the steak?—
and, oh, you saw the Picasso show. (Myself, the faces
he painted make me ill. Put a mask on that thing,
you know?) A visit to the bakery (a cake
for junior’s birthday), and, what’s this?, worshipping
on Sunday morning? You don’t look the type. Myself,
I gave up that hocus pocus, don’t mind me saying.
Hard to stomach, all that kneeling and bowing and praying.
A man, to be a man, must think for himself,
that’s what I’ve always said. One thing here I see:
You visit your mother every Saturday. Risky,
as you ought to know. “We’re all in this together,”
we have to remember, so forget her.
It’s not just me saying this. They
say now we should stand even farther away.
Twelve feet (this is what I heard) and double quarantine.
Hey, we do our part to keep each other clean.
Thank you. Have a good day–oh, sir! Your passport, sir!
You don’t want to lose this. It’s your new chauffeur,
a chaperone to keep you from getting into trouble
with the air. And the police. Return to your bubble.
Next! Have your passports ready to inspect!
Customs Officer