Donna J. Gelagotis Lee
Lament for 20th-Century Air Travel
Pre-911, pre-SARS, the only
worry:
the reliability of the
machine itself—
those booths selling flight
insurance
now relics of ignorance—
before we thought they’d
bring our own planes down,
before unseen microbes would
pass
out illness free as a
beverage,
before in-flight dinner
disappeared and
stewardesses served
passengers
smiles and pleasantries,
when a 747, ponderous as a
football
field, touched down with
ornithologic grace,
when the stewardess’s life
was "glamorous"!
(Hair, makeup, the romance
of flying. Cocktails.
Cigarettes!
Re-lax. Sit back. Enjoy
yourself!)
Cram! Ignore the air
hostess. Love, instructive
as a television, folds up.
A pack of peanuts on a tray.
But you’re as big
as an elephant. The pilot
gives you
altitude, temperature, a
quick
greeting. Monitor
your surroundings. Vacation
is no longer vacating; the
portable
life is here. You carry it
with you—
all you need. You revolve
like the world—in degrees.
Donna J. Gelagotis Lee’s poems have been published or are
forthcoming in The Bitter Oleander, CALYX: A Journal of Art and
Literature by Women, The Cortland Review, Crab Orchard Review, Feminist
Studies, The Midwest Quarterly, and other journals. | 