I saw a fat kid
on a bike
who had a nice smile
On a bike
I saw a fat kid
who had a nice smile
Who had a nice smile?
The fat kid
on a bike
Out on that bike: legs pumping, face flushed, delicious air running through passages cool into his lungs, and then through arteries and down to the cells, the mitochondria.
That smile of shy, unobserved delight, the glide like a P-51 through the neighborhood, going somewhere or nowhere
Sixteen and on a bike: a moment to be savored
What sort of asshole am I that I didn’t see the smile first?
Am I often given gifts and my focus finds the subpar wrapping paper?
Perhaps if I keep working at it, and if I’m lucky
In future I’ll see the poem first, before I have to write it
When did we enter this world?
Our new strange world
Where all our collective memories are bad
And every moment second-guessed?
The city is noisy and alive
And smells of Sabretts and sweet onion sauce
As it wakes up
You’re where you are, wherever that may be
While I’m anonymous
Talking to strangers
Lovely under their masks