He was clearly inebriated
Or so it appeared
For he was all over the road
Without a care.
I was driving behind him
Out of necessity,
It was the way to my destination
So, naturally.
Mostly on the left side
Sometimes on the right,
At times right down the middle;
Do note it was night.
If he were not inebriated
Then he must be old
And that he should stop driving,
He should be told.
It did not occur to me
I was doing likewise,
Every time he ducked in and out
He became my guide.
Both of us were inebriated,
Both of us were drunk
But I was not given to alcohol
So, this I quickly debunked.
Under the influence
But not of alcoholic spirits,
For neither he nor I was drunk
But were shunning pits.
A pit here and a pit there
Pits were everywhere,
To find a road that is free from pits
Is becoming very rare.
I am calling them pits
Because of their depth
And no doubt they are responsible
For some of the wrecks.
“Potholes” is the name
They internationally go by
And in Barbados you can’t shun all
No matter how you try.
So, if you drive at night
You might get a D.U.I.
Simply because you avoid potholes
Just to get by.
Driving under the influence
Naught of spirited wine
But of Barbados’ array of potholes
On which we nightly dine.
Our roads are terrible
‘Tis time something be done,
Driving on our roads at nighttime
Is surely not fun.
One Minister made a promise
To a not-yet MP,
She said funds are already allocated
For that constituency.
To fix the many bad roads
That are pothole riddled,
And this, while already sitting MPs
Continue to struggle.
“Who de cat like….”
Need I finish this saying?
Of course not, almost every Bajan knows
Election coming.
My sympathy goes out
To all the other parties,
Some emerging from the wreckage
That is the DLP.
‘Tis not potholes this time
That caused these rifts,
But they are under some influence
If you get my drift.
Stewart Russell © January 2, 2026
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