Greener Grass
written by: Ricky Hawthorne
@searsjames
My grandmother used to say that
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 brings me a drink and
Patronises me in two distinct ways
I drink it and the liquor eases the path
For the contrived sandwich that follows
It plummets, undigested, to a pit
In my stomach, defying removal
Until I eject it over the Hook of Holland
Later, the Captain announces that
The turbulence I am experiencing
Is only temporary, due to cloud cover
On our final approach to Manchester airport
When we land my irrational fear of flying
Subsides and is quickly supplanted by
The rational terror of the nearing terminal building
My hand still itches
Thank Christ for small mercies
Graduate of Warwick University
Triple honors in Literature, Theater and Film
- Detonation - September 14, 2023
- Con—Text - April 19, 2023
- Addiction - July 13, 2021
