I believe there is a traffic god
An adverse guru of the roads
An all-watching observant being
Who delights when we explode
At the mass of vehicular congestion
That snarls up and moves so slow
Disrupting any previous suggestion
That the roads would smoothly flow.
This highway master and authority
I swear takes great delight
When we’re in a rush with little time
Knowing that we’ve left it tight
For by some sadistic fate or irony
The roads then become so chock a blocked
From shed lorries loads and escaped cows
To queues backing up gridlocked.
But wait! For with boggling obsession
Ensnaring drivers mind
We slow down our pace still further
To rubber neck in kind
But why we ask in wonder
Do we feel the need to stare
Causing yet another jam
That shouldn’t really now be there!
The reason is so simple
It’s not found in our psychology
But in this truth, the traffic god
Likes ‘jam’ and bread for tea!
And so to satiate his hunger
He conjures preserves that he’ll adore
Especially on Fridays
With traffic jams galore!