There is always a little turbulence

There is always a little turbulence

Even jetliners shake rattle and roll

The pressure can be extreme

For the older bladder

Especially after cancer

Feed your baby it helps with the pressure change

Always remember to swallow

It is not as rude as it sounds

But there is little future

In looking for love in a cubicle

At thirty thousand feet

When the last guy in there

Chose the curry option for dinner

Where is the romance in that

It’s not like the movies

Most people fall asleep

Or watch a screen alone in the dark

Wishing they were Bogart

Or maybe it’s The Rock,

Johnson, not Hudson,

He wouldn’t fit into the cubicle.

People rarely speak,

Until they do and then you wish

They would keep quiet

Some sit as quietly as church mice

You would barely know they were there

Pleasing and thank you-ing

Left, right and centre

Hoping to be remembered

When they never are

People who have a velveteen cover

For the steering wheel

Do they still wear gloves to drive?

Put a knitted cosy over a toilet roll

An antimacassar on the back of the sofa

As well as the arms

It is no different to anywhere else

In that respect

Adversity can bring people together

But that is not something you wish for

On a jet plane

Just a quiet flight, free from excitement

Perhaps a drink or two

But remember to keep hydrated

If only you could sleep right through

Instead of binging on movies

You would never choose to pay for

With great big, bug boggle eyes

As red as a drunk on a bender,

At least he might have a tale to tell

And maybe he didn’t wish

The night was ever over

But then again

He will suffer for it later

Come to think of it,

So might you.