Expired Passport

Just a few days before an expected departure over the seas

I lay half asleep, ruminating with face pressed into the folds of my pillow

When some inner neuron coming from God knows where

Carried an alarm indicating that my passport was expired.

Wearily, feet searching for slippers, my body responded

to nocturnal commands.

I shuffled like Frankenstein's Bride

(my hair whipped up on the sides)

to the dark desk whereinith my Passport lie.

Damnation! The fatal date 

marked clearly in ink

belonged to another time in the past

It was a pill I had to swallow

And dilly dallying would serve no justice!

I would have to cast

a line

for

an

Emergency Passport.

Knowing that most mortals rarely check their Passports on a yearly basis,

Why? thought I,  couldn't my cherished government create a friendly reminder

so that 3 months before the DATE

one would be alerted to take a course of action.

Hence I wrote to the Department of State

Suggesting that a passport would contain a timed device

that meant that it would start smoldering 3 months before expiration.

To my surprise the State office accepted

Under the one condition that citizens must wear fireproof clothes and pajamas 

 Thanks to the State Department

I got the renewal in time and made it to my plane to

see the launching of the latest missile in North Korea

A giant missile in the shape of Kim Jong Il!

I never clapped so hard in my life

As Kim Jong soared over the skies!

The following day, however, my hands hurt so much

puffy and too tender for a handshake or touch

I went, thinking wisely for some needed relief:

little acupuncture needles in thy neck,

and my passport, firmly in my rear pocket.