A plane my chosen vessel be
To soar in comfort ‘cross the sea
Not at all did I expect to be
Antagonized.
A woman with her little mutt
Crowned my neighbor with her butt
And taking aisle space with her gut
Liberally.
Since the dog had no space for himself
(Designated for her psychiatric health),
Crawling across with very little stealth
He curled improbably
-Yet oh so promptly-
In my lap.
The old woman could not help but dote
Upon my looks and open heart,
Grant me advice from the Golden Coast –
A share of her philosophizing smarts.
I nod with mock enthusiasm
For, within, a chortling chorus
Points out the filth upon my lap
To deride her “conscientiousness.”
For I am not a fan of dogs –
Is that what I get for smiling
Saying I like them
As supposedly everyone does
When the beast is shedding all over
Having never been on a plane before
Nervous
As am I having a greasy creature
And knowing how hard it is to get the
And the smell!
Don’t get me started on the smell.
I listen to her tiring story
Of how tiresome ‘tis living sixty years
(With open smile and scornful heart
Because she burns my ears
And her dog, it burns my lap):
“Oh, the importance of traveling
When you’ve nothing else to live for…
You know, you’re a handsome boy,
I’m sure you will find a good girl,
Progressive and forward-thinking –
Awww, Charlie thinks so, too –
Come here, boy! Is he bothering you?
No? You’re such a good boy.
Sweet, too. My son was a good boy
But we never saw eye to eye
Especially in girls, I tell you!
There aren’t many women like me anymore, tee-hee.
You’ve got to make sure
She respects herself, and dresses like it,
And is good with kids, and pleased you.
I mean, you’ve had sex before;
You probably know what you want.
Oh, you haven’t? You really need to
To know what kind of girl you want.
How she is in bed is how she is in her head
Is what I like to say about them.
But how can you not have…
And you don’t drink? Such a sweet thing,
But you’re missing out on so much –
Oh! The plane’s descending!”
And not a moment too soon
As I, with dog in my lap
Clawing my groin
And dog at my side
Yapping into my ear
Were almost equally close
To shattering this pedestal of
Propriety.
The dog tuite suit removes itself
Unveiling a nest of fur
Woven into my jeans;
The old bag,
Unwilling to carry her own bags,
Slyly encourages me to do so.
I do so
And, as she leads me outside,
For my pains and sufferings,
Am offered a ten-dollar bill.
Though not really,
Since it was only sticking out of her bags.
But, encroach and be encroached upon,
Betrays not my obliging smile
To that flea-bitten mongrel
And her like-minded pet.
Morning's Early Dark 