When this place first opened

It was a science fiction wonder

A gleaming, glassy palace

Over the tarmac rapids’ thunder

At night it was a spaceship

In a ribboned Milky Way

Of Ford Anglias and Zodiacs 

With its shimmering array

Of magazines and wine gums

Pies and chips and peas

For modern minded connoisseurs

To bask in motoring ease

Peeling off th...

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Veering through Northern valleys
Nocturnal nomad chasing lights
Squinting through misty glass at
Solitude
Rural black
Hills rising raucously
Perfidious silhouettes whispering
Shadows looming
GPS. Reroute. M1. 
Settings were fucked - avoid motorways? 
No wonder

Back to the linear path
Diving towards the sprawling metropolis
Hours to go.
Adjusting frequencies -
The Wind Cries Mary.
...

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John was killed on the motorway today

His wife was taking the kids to school

She had waved him goodbye that morning

Death came later, without any warning

They had a tentative arrangement for lunch

So they’d left their options open

And later, so the reporter said on the evening news

No other words were spoken

A boy racer cut him up so they foolishly de...

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