Speed Thrills Stopping Abruptly Kills

> Do not read if of a nervous disposition . I am committed to sending at least one poem a day to some social media page. Poetry Soup want us to send one each Tuesday but as I have a memory thingy I do one at least a day in case I miss Tuesday lol. A young man, twenty one years old, I do not know all the details, time – road conditions – who caught him – you know, cameras or police – or even what car he was driving. Or if he had any passengers. But he was on the M11, a motorway in the UK and driving at a speed of 154 mph. The national speed limit is 70 mph. He did not crash so that that speaks volumes of his driving ability. I don’t not know what he does for a living, I would suggest he seeks employment with a racing car firm somewhere at least he can get a legal adrenaline rush, behind the wheel. He was fined £360 and banned from driving for fifty-six days. Today’s local radio, (2-8-16) is full of it, asking 'was the punishment sufficient or not? They received lots of calls from members of the public and interested motoring organisations. I had a little say; I had already written this poem. Speed thrills, stopping abruptly kills. Speed itself does not kill, but gives an adrenaline rush to thrill. It’s when suddenly you do stop. And inside your body, well that does not. You might have a smile on your face. Strapped in your seat, nothing at a glance looks out of place. But your insides, well, are a disgrace. As all your bits, are out of place. Your heart is in your mouth you see. Your kidneys are where your lungs should be. And bless, you mess your trousers too. Where is your bladder, mixed with your poo? I only use the poo word in hospital. That’s where you might now go. To that deathly quiet place, the mortuary, you will so. Not at speed, I hasten to say. There you will go slowly that day. Alas, you will not drive any more. As angels don’t speed, I implore. I am sending this to Mr. Mark Murphy the DJ now on BBC Radio Suffolk. The radio and programs I am habitual tuned into lol. (The mad Author.) Copies Poetry Soup. Mr Mark Murphy. BBC Radio Suffolk. Possible Book 11 of Poems lol. (The mad Author)(<