....Seven kays from the border,
And I ain’t yet moved today.
....But I’m wide awake and ready,
Just wanna get on my way.
....How I hate this endless waiting,
And the need to stay awake.
....The need to keep the air up,
For the quick release of the brake.
....I ain’t saying that they’ll come past,
But it’s a chance you cannot take.
....Last-time ever through Kapicule,
You gotta learn from your mistake.
....Should have pushed on down through Yugo,
Gone on into Greece.
....Cheaper fuel and better food,
And no hassle from police.
....Could have had a day at Kavala,
Parked up on the beach.
....Lying on the sand in the hot sun,
With a cold beer in easy reach.
....Why’d I have to come through Bulgie,
It’s always the same way.
....Ipsala might be further round,
But in the long run it’ll pay.
....Who the hell were you?
....Four days in this queue.
....When will I get through?
....What did I do?
To deserve this!
This poem was written in 1984 while sitting in a long line of trucks waiting to cross the Kapitan Andreevo / Kapicule border from Bulgaria into Turkey....