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Friday, August 10, 2012

Ode to my Bicycle


 Bless the bike,
its wheels, tires, chain & seat
on which i glide through city streets
            in between the cars & roaring trucks        
on Lincoln Ave;
Bless the tiny ball bearings,
the pedals, handles, gears all working in tandem
            with the clockwork of my legs
pushing circles:
left, right, left, right, left;

Praise the kiss of wind on my face,
bless the caress of wind in my hair
wind rushing through my clothes,
            wind pulling, pushing, air
brushing my whole body,
filling my nostrils,
            hitting my eyes,

Praise the way the bicycle
            embraces weight & masters gravity;
Praise the sensitivity of tires
on paved earth or grass,
the rickety jittering of my frame
            going over bumps & cracks;
            potholes shake my mind awake,
            bringing me back to earth;
            uphill stretches burn my calves
                                    as i breathe deeper, sweating,
                                    throwing every ounce of force i have
                        into the push:
                        left, right, left, right, left;

O bike, you are no robot i control
            from the inside,
but an extension of my very body
            into metal & rubber,
so, astride you, i thank God
            for my own blood & bones  
            which make me move –
                        my brain & lungs & flesh & guts
                        converting food & water i’ve consumed
            into ground covered,
            concrete distance over which i fly—
                        left, right, left, right, left;

No, bike, you are nothing like a car
that hides me from the world outside,
            & from which, through the windshield,
                        Things come & go as if on screen;
                                    no – on you i am exposed,
                                                naked and immersed
                                    in the water of the world,
                        i see, hear, smell, & feel it all:
            from the weather to the sewer,
                        from the indian food shops on Devon
                                    to the fishy smell of the river
                                    to the fountain’s spray in Fellgher park
                                                where little children play,
                        i hear the paletero’s bell,
                        the howling rumble of the L,
                        & here i feel myself a part
                        of city, breathing with the rest–
                        a little blood cell
                        rushing through Chicago’s veins,
                        pulsing with it’s heartbeat:
                        left, right, left, right, left –
           
On you, bike, i notice things like:
            a toddler rubbing noses with her mother
            on a bus stop bench,
            the sound of crickets
                        crossfading to traffic,
            streaks of yellow light from lampposts
            shining in the water,
            a single gatorade bottle
            on a dark, empty basketball court,
            a woman sleeping on a bench
            at Milwaukee & Diversey
            wearing a red hat,
                        leaning on a backpack;

            Naked bittersweet Truth & Beauty stand before me,
            revealed to my eyes & ears as these montages;

&, bike, on you,
            i engage with people & with Things,
            exchanging passing smiles with a stroller family,
            or, riding past a walnut tree
                        who extends a branch
                                    low into the street as if for a high-five,
                                    i am happy to oblige, reach up
                                    & slap some leaves as i go by

Yes, bless you, bike, in the open –  
            long-live the heartbeat of your ride
guiding feet in turning circles:
                        left, right, left, right, left;      

Bicycle, O little steed,
            Praise you! Always
            on your back
                        i am one with road
                        & landscape,
                                    embodied,
                        one with breath,
            with metal, seasons,
                        time,
            & all the billion People
            & all Things.

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