Ode to the Potholes, written by Adver columnist Graham Carter.

Some folk like to travel

And ask what could be better

Than heading to the Grand Canyon

Or to the gorge at Cheddar?

But now there is a better plan

For travel-wary souls:

Swindon is the place to be

To find some massive holes.

It doesn’t matter where you live -

In Pinehurst, Park or Tadpole -

I guarantee before you’re home,

You’ll ride a thousand potholes.

When you drive to beauty spots

Like Stanton or Coate Water,

You’ll always find a perfect route

To test your shock absorbers.

If your address is Lane or Court or

Crescent, Gate or Gardens,

The only way to make it home

Is on the pothole slalom.

When we were young it’s true to say

Our path would be much straighter,

But now you’ll find all routes in town

All lead you to a crater.

When it comes to rocky roads,

Who needs a Brecon Beacon

When you can get the same effect

On Streets named Bruce or Deacon?

In every Close around the town,

Like Gable, Gibbs and Goulding,

You know there will be potholes there

That nobody’s repairing.

On Abbey View and Bath and York,

And any Road you travel,

Before you’re even half way home

The tarmac will unravel.

In Eastern, Limes and Beech -

All Avenues you name -

Burford, Marlowe, Jefferies…

The story’s just the same.

On Akers, Cloche or Dorcan…

And any Way you mention

It shakes your body to the core

And rattles your suspension.

It’s bad enough for drivers,

But cyclists: even worse,

No matter how you get about,

You can’t avoid the curse.

A year ago the borough said

A count was undertaken,

And there were only nineteen left,

So we must be mistaken.

Our eyes deceive, we must be mad.

Perhaps it’s all a dream.

There are no potholes left, they said,

No matter how it seems.

Now drive around and you will find

No roads in Swindon has ’em

They made the potholes go away

By replacing them with chasms.