in dream
i have that bicycle so long desired
& on it feel wind
luscious free warmth
resisting my locks
in resistance flowing
resistance blowing
resistance
then you become bellow
loudly bringing chill
chide or confusion
awakening the porcupines
whose quills dispense like pez
as you raise your voice
& holler my name
caustic & correcting
another time still
handlebar throwdown
then backwards walkaway
thru shattered glass remnants on parking lot ground
painted white guidelines turn first into fences
then teeth
& finally
chalk
those wheels will not be there
when the summer returns
those handlebars fading
now useless &
gnarled
(c) 2000 Jacqueline Jones LaMon. All Rights Reserved.