You might notice I have an interest in place, in navigation, in the routes we take from one thing to another. While it usually takes a more serious tone, here’s another new poem, just written to play with the descriptive way we give directions - but I’ve road-tested it and it gets a laugh when read out loud, which never happens with my stuff usually.
Cutting over town,
across the park
below the hills,
through the twitten,
behind the swiss hotel,
round the royal crescent,
slide past the library,
around the edge of the centre,
under the back of the gasworks,
and down to the front;
the quickest route from here to you.
