Leaving Buenos Aires

Waiting.
Waiting to board the aeroplane
From Buenos Aires
To Heathrow.

I’m tired.
I should be sleeping.
Haven’t had much sleep for days
And my aching mind to breaking point
Has been stretched.

A cold.
For days I’ve had a stinking cold.
And constipation. And my neck, it’s hurting. Since I cricked it
As I picked up my luggage at the airport,
When first I arrived.

What’s more
I wrenched my right knee in Ushuaia.
At the hotel, on some badly-lit steps in my room.
But it doesn’t hurt that much and I don’t have to walk round
With a crutch.

And now?
I’m sleepless again. Sat on my seat on the plane.
Constipated. Been three times to the loo since I boarded.
Need to go again. I’ve an awful pain in my stomach.
Who said it always pours and never rains.

I did!
Yes, I did! Don’t contradict me!
It must have been something I ate.
Unwashed apple? Unwashed grapes?
Half-cooked meal? You can’t imagine how awful I feel.
I wouldn’t wish it on my enemies.

Right now
Heathrow’s less than two hours away.
I’m hoping for a warm sunny day, when dawn cracks.
Full English for breakfast? I’m going back to Argentina.
For breakfasts there are by far better than B A’s!