We queued to launch our metal wings
Into turbulance
Where we were sh-sh-shoo-ke-ke-shoook
Cups and lips missing
Hot drinks undrunk shivering
Stomaches leapt, stretched, compressed
The purrrrlinggg! rings
Co-pilot politely runs through somethings
That at this time sound vital
As our flimsy belts constrain our forms
Within the mainframe of this compact
Missile loaded with the human virus
Complex beasts with complex needs
Agendas, wishes, dreams, plans, schemes
To land on friends and family whether willing or otherwise
They will be delivered
From this misery
Should this plane not glide safe and sound
But crash to ground in smithereens.
CLP 12/10/2018
Trio of diamonds
