Yesterday I drove eight steady hours on M5.
I should add this to my curriculum vitae
we face a shortage of lorry drivers.
Poetry does not pay and
I don’t like sitting in buses:
not good with people,
prefer drinking at the steering wheel.
The police caught me twice
reading on the motorway.
First time they stopped me,
I apologised for driving
too slowly. The second time,
I read them a whole poem.
They apologised for the intrusion