Up Above the Clouds
Strapped in a steel capsule.
Sailing over the Pacific Ocean
Strapped in a steel capsule
We all utter silent prayers
Then take our sleeping ampoule.
Whether it’s a tablet
A stiff whisky and a chaser
Or an herbal knockout pill
It must be a mind eraser.
The seats are cramped, and the food is crook
And the air con’s much too cold
And I’m trying to remember
Tips from the brave and bold.
Thoughts trace across my mind
And I’m sure the wings are on fire
The red light on the loo stays on
Someone asks whether I am a frequent flyer.
I stumble up the aisle
And am tripped by legs extended
And stretched out just as I walked past
And notice the flight cabins are unattended.
As we plummet down in freefall
I’m the only one left standing
And I hear this is the Captain speaking
Buckle up; we’ll soon be landing.
Are the screaming whines and thumps
Just standard landing procedure
I grab a hostess and hold her tight
Please don’t leave me. I might need you.
Back on the ground and safe and sound
The nerve and pluck come back
And as I stand in the international terminal
I’m stuffed and ready for the sack.
©
David Rudder
2013
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