Airplane Standard Time
Flew from Honolulu to the US mainland,
Jolted from my slumbers when I feel the plane land,
Can’t remember if I’m stopped at LAX or SFO.
Stumbling off the skybridge and I check the screen,
Tells me my connecting flight’s at 5:15,
Don’t know if that’s now or in an hour or an hour ago.
You know why I’m disoriented?
I’m all
Set to Airplane Standard Time, all
Done with stupid stuff from SkyMall,
Looking for a way back home —
There’s got to be a way back home.
Flew from Hartsfield-Jackson through O’Hare to Sea-Tac,
Guy behind me grumbles as I shove my seat back,
So exhausted I don’t really give a damn for etiquette.
Overcrowded flight gets me a free hotel,
Going straight to voicemail on my girlfriend’s cell:
“Baby, where I’m calling from, your birthday isn’t over yet.
I’ll see you in the morning. (Won’t I?)”
I’m all
Tuned to Airplane Standard Time, all
Done with Hemispheres and SkyMall,
Looking for a place called home —
It’s in my contacts under “Home”.
Flew in from Miami Beach B.O.A.C.,
Had too much to drink but it was duty-free,
Said some things I won’t regret to people I won’t meet again.
Red-eye, but I’m too awake to shut my eyes,
Looking over spreadsheets ‘til my laptop dies,
Everybody in the world except for me’s asleep by then.
(Well, maybe the first officer.)
But I’m all —
Lord, how I’ve meandered! — I’m all
Stuck on Airplane Standard Time, all
Looking for a place to call home —
There’s no place like a place like home.
(Cf. this status.)
