Friday, August 1, 2008

Foreign departure lounge

Another stream of English? Greek? Swahili?
Everybody straining hard to hear.
We look across at Ray from Cabinteely.
He just shrugs and takes a sup of beer.

The plane was due to leave at 7:20,
My watch says it is now 8:22.
Of Gaelic football tops, there still are plenty,
So if it’s gone, it’s left with just the crew.

The monitor is grimy and quite dirty,
Our flight of course is nowhere to be seen.
The plane that left for Rome at 7:30
Still shows “Delayed till 7:17”

There’s no sign of our plane outside the window,
We’re six but squashed in seats designed for three.
Someone throws away last Wednesday’s Indo,
Someone else is going for a pee.

All around the travellers are sweating,
No-one really wanting to fly home.
My wife and I are earnestly regretting
We didn’t catch that bleedin’ flight to Rome.

Half an hour, another stream of babble,
Ray gets up and nods toward the gate.
We all follow like a brainless rabble,
Thankful that we’re only two hours late.

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