To the Man Sitting in Front of Me Who Had His Chair Pushed All the Way Back from Before Take Off for the Duration of the 10-Hour Flight
Too good to listen
to the flight attendants, are we? A real
etiquette revolutionary, hmm?
You have made a very powerless enemy
with a lot of time to stew
in your inconsideration. You are
a yellow-toenailed sponge brain,
a crumple-testicled beaverbutt. You
are a hangover at work, a champagne flute
full of cat puke, you are a mangle toothed
parent disappointer. You are a ten year old
getting their lunch money stolen, PTA
parents and stage mothers, you are
probably the kind of character
who pulls down missing pet posters.
You are whipped cream cheese
five months past its expiration date,
spread on a fresh Montreal bagel.
You are the hair in our collective drain,
a screaming baby on a plane, you, sir,
are a bee sting
on the nipple
of humanity.
You are global warming deniers
rallying in hurricane season, a person
who always reads the comment section,
you are a spider floating
in a bowl of soup on a cold winter day.
You are a scrabble rack with 5 Es and 2 Is on it,
an improperly inserted tampon put in right
before a marathon, you are a splinter past
the reach of even the most tenacious tweezers
you are a bad remix of a good song
with more radio play than the original,
you are every comb over on every man
who thinks he's fooling anybody, you
are the kind of heathen who prefers the live
action version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas
a villain who tells children that Santa isn't real,
who gives out cereal and toothpicks for Halloween
who insists on speaking with managers
at every establishment with more than one
employee, a density of mosquitoes
in every bedroom, and a law unto yourself,
apparently. Please enjoy my knees
against the back of your seat whenever I reach
for something out of my bag. I have a lot of things
in my bag. I am going to want them often.
