Greener Grass

My grandmother used to say a
Change is as good as a rest but
She was as inflexible as the

Itch on my hand that won't go
Away. The stewardess offers me
A drink and patronises me in

Two different ways. I accept it and
The liquor eases the path for the
Rubber sandwich that follows

It plummets undigested to a pit in
My stomach defying removal. I finally
Eject it over the Hook of Holland

Later the captain assures me that the
Turbulence I am experiencing is due to
Cloud cover on our approach to

Manchester Airport. When we land my
Irrational fear of flying subsides and
Is supplanted by a rational terror of

The nearing terminal building.
My hand still itches
Thank Christ for small mercies