I don’t mind
A short trip in a car
From here to Bridge of Allan
Is not too far
But a bus feels so much safer
Rattling along its caper
We’re always free
To have ourselves a jar
I drove the roads of Erris
In my time
They were quiet roads
Holiday time
But the roads of England
They are just a mess
Catastrophic highways
Must confess
Two thousand deaths a year
So I’m told
25 thousand
Serious injury
It’s madness
It’s insane
But we carry on again
What I don’t see
It don’t impinge on me
I don’t have to travel
Now I’m old
Okay for me to sit here
Get you told
But our transport
Is a sin
Much prefer a train
Safer that
Than driving on the road
I remember
In Dusseldorf one time
Being on a tram
And thinking fine
A gentle easy pace
No need to have a race
We’re moving
And everyone’s in line
The motorcar
Spells privacy alone
Do your own thing
The social world is blown
The rat race
The rush to get ahead
Leaves others in your wake
Leaves others dead
Whatever thing we make
Is in itself not bad
It’s how we use them
Makes our world so sad
Selfish careless men
Out to do their thing
Bring sorrow to us all
And suffering
Brian Fahy
17 May 2021
Erris Poetry 