Turn Left You Idiot!
Turn left you idiot!
And being a man, I obey,
mumble, mumble, screech, screech.
Then on, vague whispers of
indecision chime up, straight, hurry
ok, ok I say, steady… please.
And we whiz onward,
looking at the passers by
and you jump in, quick,
take the right fork
you bleeding moron.
Oi, that’s enough, I’m doing my best.
A brief right slip and foot down,
Now where, now where?
Quick, where now?
I pull over, upset at your silence.
So? Tell me, tell me?
Bloody cheap, stroppy
Sat Navs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
after getting lost with one of these in Sydney...I know exactly how this feels...thanks for the giggle.