Bedroom door closes before Milton Keynes
Atomised passions tamp under artic axles
Our heroine panting at Knutsford or Keele
Coffee untouched. Fingering his last letter
Tears beyond green gasholder at Bescot
Bronzed hunks are striding
Not to Walsall or Wolverhampton
A million bosoms heave --the press of tyre treads
You drive straight through broken hearts
Get over it, girl
Put your foot down.
*Inspired by the fact that the M6 toll road is built on a foundation of several thousand pulped Mills and Boon novels.
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