Biker Boy

Biker Boy

Ever notice when you lean your bicycle
up against a brick wall in the late afternoon
when the sun wants to French kiss metal—
the deep dark shadow from the front tire
creates a heart as it meets itself
where sidewalk collides with wall?

Puts me in mind of a simpler time
when a bicycle had gender
and the fat tires had tubes in them.
Those bikes had one speed,
varying only with the strength
in your legs and the terrain.

Yeah, back in those bad old 50’s
when boomers rode their first vehicles,
we did so bravely; without helmets.
Remember those rich kids who had to ride
English racers, with 3-speeds,
narrow-assed seats
and funny looking handlebars?

My blue collar bike had white wall tires
and a saddle bag for my tuna sandwiches
and heavy school books.
Man, I was the coolest.

What the hell happened to that kid?


Glenn Buttkus November 2009