Poem

I've been in some predicaments
with my car bursting in flames
in a garage; near the pumps
how did that happen to me?

I've been put in a hotel
that cost fifty quid
where a tramp
banged hard on the door.

Then there's the place on a hill
where I trecked one summers day.
Water; not turned on for a year
and hedge trimmer but no bed to be seen.

I'd been offered a wheel-barrow
to push my case and hoover
several miles up the dirt track
to find my dream home.

I've been on a plane
that circled around
then sat far away
on a run-way.

What about the plastic Swan at Woburn
which, due to technicality
nearly sunk when I got in
how could that happen to me?

Then there was the holiday
when Mr carved Mrs shoes
with a bread-knife
and slashed clothes on hangers to.