Drive

It’s grey today.
The sleeping dog lays
With his tail out the window,
Head on top of a Melway.

Drive.

He drives to hide it.
He drives to fight it.
He drives to while away
Another smile less day.

Out on the open,
But so closed.
Pumping out the diesel fumes
With a 20 tonne monkey
On his back.

The wireless ramblings
And posted notes
Of Johnny Two-way:

Slave to the freight.