Flight BI 688

Here we sit awaiting, at Manila Airport - International,
The reasons for delays sound slightly irrational;
Our plane is still in Brunei, with a technical fault,
So the scheduled flight was called to a halt.

Now the aircraft dispatched, to act as relief,
Has evolved its own gender of mechanical grief;
From seven in the evening, until six a.m. - dawn,
We sit around waiting: too hungry to yawn.

The airport is closed, no ground staff at large,
Apart from the rats, who have now assumed charge;
An abysmal system runs civil aviation
In this Alice in Wonderland autistic nation.

The toilets are locked, the cafeteria closed,
The bar firmly shuttered: no drinks, as proposed;
The air-con’ reduced to a sonorous wheeze,
Only snores and flatulence provide a semblance of breeze.

Dawn sees the miraculous cure of our plane,
And a Gorgon invites us to board once again;
At last we take-off, and so on to Brunei:
Pray God, no more break-downs, while up in the sky.