The road again

By Gene Lass

On the concourse
All aboard
Pack the cattle in

Call us up
Row by row
Pack the cattle in

Screaming babies
All around
Pack the cattle in

Concourse agent
Can’t be heard
Pack the cattle in

The smell of sweet-sour chicken hits me
On our no-meal flight
Pack the cattle in

It’s the passenger ahead of me
Chomping teriyaki jerky
Like it’s his cud

Here the cattle are.