I shut my eyes and pray that Orbitz drops dead;
I lift my lids and find that it remains.
(I think I made it up inside my head.)

Three thousand bucks? No cheaper fare instead?
Like arbitrary numbers gallop in:
I shut my eyes and pray that Orbitz drops dead.

 What happened to two grand — that’s what you said!
“That price no longer exists” — what, was it slain?
(I think I made it up inside my head.)

Un-fucking-believable — I saw it in bed!
It’s been, like, maybe an hour since then.
I shut my eyes and pray that Orbitz drops dead.

I clicked the link to which I was led.
This false advertising is not humane.
(I think I made it up inside my head.)

I should’ve gone through Kayak instead.
At this rate, I’d rather take the train.
I shut my eyes and pray that Orbitz drops dead.
(I think I made it up inside my head.)

—–

Adapted from Sylvia Plath’s immortal “Mad Girl’s Love Song“; inspired by every fucking time I find a decent flight on Orbitz and click the link to book it and OH WAIT SORRY “THIS PRICE NO LONGER EXISTS NOW IT’S LIKE FIVE TIMES MORE EXPENSIVE LOL”.