Flying home, Barcelona to Philly
A long nine-hour flight to Philly.
The flight crew seems a little chilly.
American uniforms but under there,
Are souls that came from USAir.
There’s a woman crouched in 7E.
She’s annoying all the staff she sees.
If our steward hears another “Sir?”,
He’s going to go United on her.
This flight is long, a Transatlantic,
So all the rookies are quite frantic.
In coach, the lunch was Shepherd’s Pie.
But how many shepherds had to die?
Waiting.
Please.
Let us board.
I want a cramped seat.
I want noisy neighbors.
I want the Hell out of here.
Please let us board.
Truth
It is a long way to Tipperary.
I know that this is true.
We’ve been gone two weeks,
And we’re only in Barcelona.
Some oceans are better than others.
The Atlantic is vast,
The Pacific even more.
But The Sea of Humanity
At the Inmigration line
Is the vastest of all.
Crossing the Straits of Gibraltar
The Straits of Gibraltar
Should be quite a sight.
Unless, of course,
You cross them at night.
The lights of Europe
Off your port side in the night,
Africa is to your starboard.
What most people call “right”.
I suppose seeing the lights
Of two continents is romantic,
But I think I would prefer more,
After crossing the Atlantic.
Wondering why Cruise Critic
Is not set all aflame
With furious passengers
Who love to complain.
Even on a ship,
People are in cocoons.
There should be a way
To have some interactions.
I found an easy way.
Wander down the halls.
Look for “Do Not Disturb.”
Change to “Make Up Cabin.”
You have allowed people
To meet their cabin steward.
Bringing people together.
Feel good about yourself.
Finally had to go see Doc.
This Doc is not like Love Boat.
He has good drugs.
Nap-inducing drugs.
I like this doctor.
Sitting at the Garden Cafe,
The Golden Corral of the Sea.
Buffets, the great equalizer.
Watching the world go by.
Masses of people,
Masses of calories.
Many look very lost.
Some look confused.
Some look … wow.
This is the same gene pool
That gave us Heidi Klum
And Stephen Hawking.
Hard to believe.
I need dessert.
Back into the crowds.
I’m sleepy.
Every night,
Another hour lost.
This is why you
Can’t go home again.
Still, sleepy beats
Jet-lagged.
Coffee doesn’t fix
Jet-lagged.
There’s a ship off in the distance.
Sailing westward as she goes.
We’re still heading eastbound,
As the time begins to slow.
A lonely ship is all I see,
There must be others keeping pace.
Just two ships in the ocean
Doesn’t seem a likely case.
I know the Atlantic is vast,
But I’m just a bit amazed
How much time we seem to be alone,
While churning through the waves.
Unfiltered Thoughts 