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badger11

Another Cyclist

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badger11

revision three

 

The focussed guy cycling in front, sweating
for life, I may overtake with some care.
I frame him fractured, bulging in lycra,
leaking out red. He's overweight, but gains

pace under clearing clouds; past muddles
of potholes, puddles, spiteful cracks; fleeing
the grumble of towers that molest the sky.
I let him go, but the next one, face flushed

with joy, t-shirt proclaiming Jesus Saves,
arouses the backseat driver to kick my seat.
I check the mirrors, find the angry mantis
hungry in prayer to part limb from life.

 

 

 

 

revision2

 

The middle-aged guy cycling in front,
wanting more life, I may overtake
with care. I saw a rider clipped once,
bulging in lycra lime, leaking in red.

This one wears priest black waterproofs, slows
through the sounds of rain, avoids muddles
of potholes, puddles and cracks, weaves
a way through the grumble of towers.

His face burns with childish joys of life.
I eye the concrete and check my mirrors
to find a praying mantis waiting
with mandibles to part limb from limb.

 

 

 

revision

 

The middle-aged guy cycling in front,
wanting more life, I may overtake
with care. I saw a rider clipped once,
bulging in lycra lime, leaking in red.

This one wears striped waterproofs and slows
through the sounds of rain, avoids muddles
of potholes, puddles and cracks, weaves
a way through the grumble of towers.

I guess his face burns with clinging songs,
ghosting from valley chapels singing
those old hymns. Is that the malarkey?
I eye the concrete and check my mirrors

to find a praying mantis waiting
with mandibles to part limb from limb.

=============================================================================

 

 

original

 

The middle-aged guy cycling in front,
wanting more life, I may overtake
with care. I saw a bike clipped once,
rider bulging in lime, leaking in red.

This one wears waterproofs and speeds
through the sounds of rain, avoids muddles
of potholes, puddles and cracks, weaves
a way through the grumble of towers.

I guess his face burns with clinging songs
down from the Cambrian hills seeking
ancient stone. Is this the malarkey?
I eye the concrete and check my mirrors.

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dcmarti1

rider bulging in lime, leaking in red.

 

I should be more empathetic.....but that is funny.

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badger11

Thanks marti. The trigger was intentional. I did witness a cyclist being clipped by a car. I remember his pain and the shock of the driver. Most of all it was another reminder of our fragility.

 

all the best

 

badge

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Benjamin

Ah the ways of the city... How I hate those signs that say: "Think bike!" And moronic cyclists who overtake on the inside at traffic lights and road junctions. Almost as much as drivers, (usually females in 4 wheel drives with bumpers) who thoughtlessly shunt parked cars on the street to make a space. I like your phrase "grumble of towers" it seems to evoke a mutual and tacit resentment. G.

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badger11

Sounds like some road rage there Geoff :rolleyes:

 

all the best

 

badge

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