Poetry

[edwardrussia]

Having read Stephen Fry's book on poetry, "the Ode Less Travelled", I tried writing a villanelle about a subject very important to me.

Moscow Traffic

“Don’t strap in, don’t give way, don’t look ahead.
There’s no point being cautious where you are.
For come tomorrow you may well be dead.”

That’s what my cheery Russian driver said,
As once again he swerved to miss a car:
“Don’t strap in, don’t give way, don’t look ahead”.

It’s Moscow: here the people all are bred
To plan only today, and not afar,
For come tomorrow, you may well be dead.

So break the limits, pass the lights on red.
Just bribe the cops and they will be no bar.
Don’t strap in, don’t give way, don’t look ahead.

Drive fast and drink too much, don’t go to bed.
Spend all your money, clog your lungs with tar
For come tomorrow, you may well be dead.

Here in the car I hold on, filled with dread
And think, at every jolt and every jar,
Don’t strap in, don’t give way, don’t look ahead
And come tomorrow you may well be dead.