Craig Anderson (21st February 1959 / Hereford England.)
The F1 Drama
Sat amongst the guts of a roaring lion
The deep throat growl in his belly
The unimaginative speed from still to shriek
The smell of burned rubber and nerves of jelly.
The tight fit of measured metal and carbon fibre
Only two mirrors and a wheel in sight
No spit in an already dry mouth
Flame retardant overalls crushing manhood's aside.
The driver is the be all and end all
It's a team sport until the reds go out
The G force trying to rearrange your innards
To win to block to evade and to win again is what it's all about.
Comments about this poem (The F1 Drama by Craig Anderson )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings