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I've heard that air hostesses

get paid cosmetic leave

if their skin becomes contentious

and the resulting pustuled pimples

can't be magically made over

with a blob of black eyeliner

into a beauty spot.

The march, pink-lipped, high-heeled, dry-cleaned

down the narrow aisles

and I can't help but think of a cloned army,

robotic, ice-maiden cold, and deadly

advancing behind their drink-cart artillery

ready to clobber any caught

smoking in the shoebox toilets.

Their incessant battle cry echoes and amplifies:

"Chicken or beef?"

By Fiona Wright