We here at My Year As A Freelance Bicyclist are proud to offer another selection in our famous Sunday Bike Poems series, this one on a Wednesday. This special love poem is dedicated to the delightful lady in our life.
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“Spoke You, Spoke Me”
Blasted, bent,
broken and not broken
my heart is a spoke and you are the wheel
We spin together
The problem, of course,
is that every wheel has lots and lots of spokes—
I mean like a shitload of spokes, really, when I think about it—
Which means you’re obviously getting dick
and emotional support
from every angle
·
Still, it feels special, and it feels like
you need me a little.
Me and your other "friends"
