An Ode to the Bike Wheel locked to the CVS on the Corner of University City and Prices Fork
rating: +30+x

Part of a larger whole

Unremarkable

But the cardinal article

Of my joy that day.


I’ll set the scene:

4 years

3 spokes

2 gears

1 wheel


Cold, I climb the acclivity and

cut across the cure-thru

of the CVS

and see the essence

of something

beautifully

mundane.


Little wheel,

your rubber is ouroboros,

your spokes three clock hands,

gear-rust itself is metaphor enough,

I’d kneel at your demands.


A thief,

an owner of a lock,

the employees of a store,

all needed to ignore you, have ignored you

for all these years

to bring me this levity.

Every time I come ashore,

There. You. Are.


I’d like to steal you,

in the dead of the night,

put you in my heart

and carry the coincidence

forever.

But damn it all,

your importance, I’ve renoticed

is locked to the rack.


I’d steal the rack then.

I could fit it — if I stretch:

the wheel,

the lock,

the rack,

and the crumbles of concrete that come with.


I should know though,

scion of the Consumer Value Store and

sage of the parking lot:

those contexts and their consequences

cannot be cleaved either.


I’m afraid

the wheel,

the lock,

the rack,

the crumbles of concrete that come with,

the CVS,

and the parking lot all couldn’t fit.

My heart is meant for small joys,

taken in measured doses prescribed.


So please,

proceed on your pilgrimage.

It’s my gift to you.

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