liquorish way.

The view from my windscreen 
Gets worse every hour.
The further the drive,
my day starts to sour.
I’ve done the full circuit,
of old ‘Englatere’
Two days of my travel’s,
I’m not fucking there.

I can’t put my finger
on what makes folk drive…
for a living. I know that id’e 
much rather skive.
but I noticed my tolerant 
streak hits a bump.
or was that the tramp I got
under my sump?

To be honest I made up this plan
long ago.
to visit old mates,
I just had to go.
make sure they’re all fine
and enjoying themselves.
in the festive fun season 
with beer/ tea and elves