Terrorists! Stay away from public transport, if that’s all right. Haven’t we already suffered enough?

Come, friendly bombs, and fall on cars,
Toyotas, Fords and Jaguars,
On grinning grilles and fat bull-bars:
Land heavy, pray!

Come, bombs and blow to tiny bits
Complacent, unobservant gits,
Entitled, loud, offensive shits,
Blow them away!

Mess up the mess they constitute!
Strike first at those who worst pollute
Or, searching for the shortest route
Destroy a town;

And burst the swines, blow up the fools,
Undo the work of welding tools,
Blow them all back to driving schools.
Come, bombs: rain down!

And smash their windscreens smeared with fly
And stop their horns’ aggressive cry
And horns that honkingly reply
Like oil-fed Yanks,

But spare the Volvo’ed families
That chose cars based on mpg’s
At least they’ve not bought SUVs
Or, worse still, tanks.

And spare the ones who want to learn,
And ones who drive with due concern:
It’s not their fault that they’re harassed
By sweaty blokes

Or that they get to meetings late
Or at a junction, hesitate,
And choose incompetence o’er hating
Other folks.

In villages, with old-man fear,
The old men from their windows peer;
The buses pass by twice a year,
Yet still they wait.

So bomb the cars for all they’re worth;
Prepare us for our great rebirth!
Their three-point turn’s too late: the earth

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