Monday, March 22, 2010

Pedaling my Surly along the riverside road,
cherry blossoms stick to my rims
and I swerve left nearly hitting a 200 year old woman.
Bent like like an upside down L
she glances and sneers at my ride,
"Poser" she spits, loud enough for me to hear,
and continues down the path,
counting the cracks on the pavement for the next 200 years.
Pedaling my Surly along the bumpy path,
I imagine time slows down as I hit warp 10.
The cherry blossoms stop mid-flight,
and I ride through the pink cloud mouth open,
tasting the high pitch laughter of Japanese girls.

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