Cruise Trip Blues 

to the tune of Frer Jaques

Not the flu,
Not the flu.

I am on the poop deck,
Looking for the puke deck.
Feeling blue,
Feeling blue.

Not the flu,
Not the flu.

Forgot to washy-washy,
Now my tummy’s sloshy.
Feel like poo,
Feel like poo.

Not the flu,
Not the flu.

Medical is crowded,
I ate what the crowd did.
Cordon bleu,
Cordon bleu.

Not the flu,
Not the flu.

All of us are leaving,
Hope that this is fleeting.
No more spew.
No more spew.

Dire Straits 

The Straits of Gibraltar
Should be quite a sight.
Unless, of course,
You cross them at night.

The lights of Europe
Off your port side in the night,
Africa is to your starboard.
What most people call “right”.

I suppose seeing the lights
Of two continents is romantic,
But I think I would prefer more,
After crossing the Atlantic.

Wondering why Cruise Critic
Is not set all aflame
With furious passengers
Who love to complain.

Lost at Sea

There’s a ship off in the distance.
Sailing westward as she goes.
We’re still heading eastbound,
As the time begins to slow.

A lonely ship is all I see,
There must be others keeping pace.
Just two ships in the ocean
Doesn’t seem a likely case.

I know the Atlantic is vast,
But I’m just a bit amazed 
How much time we seem to be alone,
While churning through the waves.


Sailing back to Europe,
Losing an hour almost every day.
This is what causes the ugky American.
We’re sleep deprived.

Still, I’d rather take two weeks
And be a bit sleep deprived,
Than take ten hours or so,
And be jet-lagged.

On a ship,
You have a cabin.
On a plane,
You have a seat.

Cabins share walls.
These are sometimes thin.
However, seats share armrests,
And these are much thinner.

Texas Tour

I’m out on the road.
I’m livin’ the dream.
Yet all I can afford
Is my Dairy Queen.

Some day, I’ll be rich.
Ribeye steaks for me.
Today, it’s steak fingers
With tots and gravy.

I’m not the only one,
Many others came before.
So, I’ll refill my soda,
And I’m back out the door.