Wolverhampton by car
In we got, all seated and prepared,
With only a map to guide through the urban sprawl,
We sit back and relax, and use the window as a t.v,
Watch the ride and let the Patriarch drive.
We see trees, animals and people crossing,
A mother ushers her young over a junction,
Navigating her family as the herds close in,
All a wildlife program of its own,
A never ending road that wound and wound,
Approach at speed, bodies pin back,
Turn the bend and a lorry sits before red lights,
Like an elephant bathing in the summer heat,
A ferocious roar that bellows and carries far,
All from a pipe emitting a dusty gas,
Its sleek body cuts through the traffic, leaving all behind,
A beautiful lion roaring past at full speed,
Cameras flash at the beautiful lion,
Sirens follow as the park ranger enforces law
Slow. Slow. Slow. He sits timid in the left hand lane,
He is unleashed with only a warning.
The lush green grassland grow to take over,
Birds twitter and overtake the roars of the lions,
Random intrusions of red grey blocks emerge,
The mountains of the urban savannah
Gazing across the now grey savannah,
The chugging locomotive dissects the peace,
Roaring louder than the herd, it commands attention,
The human eyes struggle to keep speed,
Patterns of animal life engrained on the city,
Approaching the watering hole, we are one of many
Ring roads created to direct and contain this migration,
The city centre the source of gold,
Coal to gold; a city of Transformation,
Organic green turns to the industrial red grey,
Lions and elephants transform to mobile metal shells,
Wolverhampton, the savannah belonging to the car.
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