Cherub

"Stand on the footprints. Keep still.
Look into the machine. Do not blink."

The scanner delves you through your retina.
"The eyes are the window to the soul." Yeah, yeah.

Your baby blues, conker browns, vodka shots –
they videoed all your deeds – good and bad.

Except those so bad you had to hold tight,
squeezing shut so not to see them through...

and those when only blissful blindness
could be their proper accompaniment.

The scanner whirrs, retrieves the print of your life
and cross references it with some database.

This then is who you are: capillary swirls –
a barcode pricing your criminal nature.

A fat boy coughs. You never thought Judgement Day
would be so much like entering America.