Flying | Travel | Home | Poetry | Rhyme
Anywhere But Missouri
or a poem about Flying Home
Let’s get this jet off the ground
Tired of London and looking around
It’s going to be an endless flight
If we ever get off the ground tonight
People argue over baggage space
An ugly side of the human race
I got my music and a song is all
As I watch two men acting small
Ten hours I’ll be back in the States
If we ever get away from this bloody gate
The captain says he’s not to blame
Sorry for the delay it’s always the same
We’re starting down the runway
Engines roaring flying to another day
Do you wonder why we don’t fall
Aviation is a calling but not for all
Sitting in economy in the middle seat
A lady on one side has such tiny feet
The man to my left blowing out a sigh
Too tight in his seat the reason why
The captain turns off the seatbelt sign
Full bladders say just in time
Attendants bring soda, coffee, or hot tea
Give a snack but nothing there for me
Cruising into a bumpy patch of sky
It’s normal for people to ask why
And while it feels uncomfortable
Believe me, the plane is always stable
I’ll take a nap till breakfast is served
But in economy that is quite absurd
I’ll write a poem something light
Maybe a poem about this flight
There’s nothing of interest down below
There’s the ocean beneath the clouds I know
Or guessing what people do for work
The man asleep is a superstore clerk
The man in front with a shiny bald head
Is a secret agent and has a gun some dread
Sitting a mile high searching for a rhyme
Secret agent, gun, and dread, is a poetic crime
What happens in your world when I’m not there
Jenny, please don’t think that I don’t care
I’ll show you I believe in you and me
But please don’t tell me you’re still in Missouri
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