Whose woods these are, I have no clue. I should be in Kalamazoo; I made a left instead of right And saw Costco and a J. Crew.
My GPS must think it strange That my cell phone is out of range. I’m already late but I don’t care; Once again, my plans will change.
I know that I’ve made a mistake. I’ve passed two Sears, a Steak-n-Shake, three Wal-Marts, and a Lowe’s or two, A small bread shop that smelled of cake.
I drive and drive in my red Jeep. I pass a farm and start to weep. The only things I see are sheep. The only things I see are sheep.
A friend of mine showed me an article in the New Yorker about a collection of poetry that used famous poems to poke fun of GPS devices, and I decided to write my own to the tune of "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost.