WORDS ON THE WAY

[Ode to the SatNav?]

Upon a trip vehicular
I chose a way orbicular.
Well done - I see you've worked that out -
I drove around a roundabout.
My book, abisidarian
Showed ways that I could vary on.
That means the roads there were for me
Were set out in my A to Zee.

Then operatives, triturating
Sabotaged my navigating.
That's it - whichever way I went,
That way the Road Works had been sent.
The routes became too various
And verged on the hilarious.
My divagations now were drastic.
(To hint at mirth is just sarcastic.)

So, too sesquipedalian
I'd been on routes, all alien.
My destination ultimate
Achieved at last, I was too late.
The moral is: don't be beguiled
By ways or words too long, my child.
Go always by the shortest route:
You'll get there, and save breath to boot.

(My taste for great verbosity,
And verbal adiposity,
Will one day surely cause my death.
I shall expire from lack of breath.)
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