The Aeroplane

The Aeroplane

We wait on seats,

Rows of angular, regular teeth,

Fiddle with hair and flick magazines,

Doesn’t the bride smile nice,

Clean, white,

Wonder if she’s had them bleached,

A half life between page and desk,

You can go through now

Clinical, practised,

Pulls down the mask and attaches,

A rumble that shakes and drills

Bones, nerves, cells

A cheery voice in the darkness,

Shutters are lifted,

A trolley extracted,

Would you like a drink?

A bitter taste rinses memory

Spits away, spits awake.