M25 Jam Poem by C Richard Miles

On the anticlockwise carriageway,
White-eyed with sheer surprise,
A thousand cars, vans and lorries
Race hastily along the black tarmac
As if fleeing some foul menace
That impels them from pure hell.

Clockwise commuters, red-eyed
Bleary with boredom or tiredness
Crawl submissively forward
As if afraid of some great beast ahead,
Jaws wide agape, that threatens
To swallow them completely.

The escaping turncoat horde gaze on
Glad they have eluded clutches
Of the ensuing traffic-jam chimaera
While we, the prey that took the bait,
Creep blindly on, reluctantly,
Resigned to meet our waiting fate.