big old bird, pelican belly-beak stuffed
with passengers who want want want
she’s in the galley, loading the trolley
for her third trip down the aisle
small stain on her sleeve
gravy, perhaps, from the filet of steer
or juice from the unremarkable chicken
or fish
a few brave souls choose fish
blackened as if someone tried to cauterize it
they’re going on an adventure
and the fish looks like a good place to start

she sits down long enough to bolt her own meal
thinks about the outfit she’s making 
her daughter for the school play
how the cat seems to be getting better
whether she’ll stay with her man

somewhere over the Grand Canyon
she collects wilted salads and drippy teapots
tells the guy in 15C to stay in his seat
’cause it’s going to get bumpy

This poem first appearerd in The Minnesota Review (Issue 68, 2007) 
and was a finalist for the "Being At Work" contest. 
Used here with the author’s permission.