I Hate to Fly

Traveling is fun, I’m eager to go,

Fill up the tank, our bags we will stow.

Up before dawn, head out the door,

Mickey Dees for pancakes, perhaps maybe more.

Catching a flight is not quite as fun,

Run to the airport, can’t bring my gun.

I hate the TSA with all of my being,

Once through the line always leaves my seething.

Waiting to board, a cattle call for sure,

Shuffling down the gangway in less than a blur.

“Please place your bag in the overhead bin,”

The size of her bag is surely a sin.

Luck of all luck, on the aisle I’m sittin’,

Knees to my chin, who are they kiddin’.

Three and a half hours stuffed in a tube,

Couldn’t get closer, even with a lube.

The guy next to me is as big as a boat,

Constantly spitting and clearing his throat.

We land with a thump and roll to the gate,

I love to travel, its flying I hate.