by Derek Morrison
Driving at speed in your insulated box
Feeling the pressure of time, your obsession with clocks
Now who are these people who get in your way?
It’s those lyrca-clad pedalers out for the day.
Why do they wobble so, in and out?
What are they pointing at, and why do they shout?
They should stay in the gutter, where they belong
The road is for you, the fast, the strong.
Let’s get even closer, let’s watch them run
Much less than one metre is much more fun
Press hard on that horn and watch them start
Then laugh out loud, as their group falls apart. Continue reading
