Let us
unattractively ride bikes
Our knees splayed to the winds of
the East & West
northwest southeast
As if rot had set in & the cure was
swift wind
As if sweat & determination ever cured
anything in the crotch
As if shrugging over the handlebars any more
could offer up the world
But just obsessing nulls the pain
ever so slightly
Clusters of chest hair billowing
from deeply cut wicking fabric
And we've given up nice asses on these
banana seat saddles
1 comment:
I think this might be my favorite poem you ever wrote. It makes me think of an awesome story that I haven't written yet, about old men and bikes and Sundays.
I like the last line the best. People should combine the words "asses" and "banana" more often. Just the words though. Bananas should not really be anywhere near asses. In For-real life.
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