femur

Back in January, Mike and I went to Florida for our goddaughter's baptism. While we had a wonderful time, lots of family and fun and let's not forget the sunny and warm weather, the trip home was a bit of a different story. In addition to delays and other issues, we had an interesting character sitting behind us on the flight, a middle-aged guy drinking like a fish and talking shouting constantly. It may take you by surprise, those of you who know my tax lawyer husband (and for those who don't, I'll just repeat myself: tax lawyer), that he wrote a poem about this experience. Here it is, for your reading pleasure:


Femur

There is a guy on my plane
who will not shut up.

Into the cabin, he carried a cup
filled with liquor to the brim.
Sitting behind me
as I wait to take off
this jackass is drunk.

Yelling and screaming
is all can hear.
His voice is obnoxious
and so are his words.

I try to block him out
but the stewardess told me "no!"
Because the airplane is not flying
my iPod will cause the plane to crash.

Upon taxiing for sixty minutes
our plane took off
into the air.

Without being able to drink for fifty-eight minutes,
Captain Asshat has passed out.

Peace. Silence. Calm.

As we come in for a landing,
he wakes up.
Jump their husbands
he tells several ladies is what they'll do,
for the suaveness of this jackass
has whet their appetites.

This plane ride was the toughest test
that I have ever encountered
for I did not stab him
with the awl that I almost fashioned
out of my own left leg.