Economy Class

Tourist Class

** Image ID #1973363 Unavailable **

I’m not sure when planes changed for worse
and riding them became a curse.
Had I a choice, I’d probably pass
given I am small space averse.

I’m sitting back in “cattle class,”
there’s hardly room for my small ass,
when the stewardess comes stumbling by
with Coke, some ice, and a small glass.

“Beverages?” I heard her cry.
No chance of sleeping, so I sigh
and find I haven’t room to wave.
I shake my head to draw her nigh.

I’m shackled like a lowly slave
(absent the oars) yet I feel brave
and ask “Can I please have a Coke?”
My voice sounds like I’m in a cave.

On either side are Sumo folk
whose fleshiness lies like a yoke
and holds me fast within my seat
less something happen and I croak!

She stares at me and I repeat
my question with a bit more heat.
She pours a bit. “A dollar please.”
I stare at her like she’s a cheat.

“A buck? For that? Surely you tease!”
Her look makes even the ice freeze.
Stuck in a vice, I cannot reach
my money without great unease.

By my own words, I must impeach
my dignity. I just can’t reach
so I decline. Such looks from each!
I hope when we off load, it isn’t breech!


An entry for Day 7, "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Image
Form: Quatrain ~ A Quatrain is a poem consisting of four lines of verse with a specific rhyming scheme but no set meter. I chose a variation called a chain rhyme which is aaba, bbcb, ccdc, dddd.