In the Air

I had looked forward to a trip

I’d waited months to take-

A little runaway with kin

To sit and play up at the lake,

Relax, unwind, and drink some sake-

Er, saki. The drink, not the goal.

Well, both. I’d put the brake

On cares and worries and the rest

Get rid of this persistent ache

And catch some zee’s before takeoff...

I wake from interrupted nap

To chaos, ruin, and disorder!

I turn to spouse, all groggy, ask what hap-

pened when I was zonked?

My chair was in proper position

The screeching from the nether region

Of the plane was imposition!

Invaded by demon? Or ten? Or legion?

Worse, murmured my loving spouse,

It is much more grim than what you feared,

A Wild Karen! It’s in the house!

Wound to pugnacious fight and geared

For hellacious argument! Her grouse

Over not being served a pre-flight tipple

Caused a topple of her blouse

When connected to the proffered drink

And her own flailing, the looney louse.

And now she wishes to complain

And make her manufactured disdain

Plain to the whole damn plane!

Now, I’ve been rowdy in my time,

I’ve fussed and dithered and ruckused

But never did I bellyache and whine

And blame another for distress

When bringing ruin upon myself.

You yanked it down, but blame the shelf?

I count to ten, eleventh, twelfth…

And then…

I.

LOST.

It.

And thus, I ROARED:

I do not care how many times

You scream and yell at stewardess,

I do not care to listen while

You bitch and moan about your dress!

Cease your incessant yapping, now!

You’ll make me so mad, I confess

I’ll make up such insidious rhymes

To expose your daft unruliness.

How dare you harsh my mellow tones

Throw toddler fits, wail, and connipt

Over your own fault? Why would you stress

To blame the human factor when

It’s clear that your own lawlessness

Led to this unfortunate estate?

I don’t care what name’s on your pass,

Push me, I’ll say your true name rhymes

With something like A Sewer Mess

If you don’t shut your yap

RIGHT.

FRICKING.

NOW!

… … … … …

Ahhhh!

Blessed silence fills this can

Of stale recirculated air

I sink back down, anticipating when

I can leave; I will not care

Bout nothing till I’m in my glen

With wind, water, and family.

The stewardess comes with widened grin

Whispers, “Thanks for flying, come again,”

And leaves a bottle of top-shelf gin!

Ahhhhhh…..

Relaxing vacation!