November 13, 2010
I let go of the handlebars
the bike does not swerve
so I relax
and watch the graffiti on the train fly past
close enough to touch
and when its gone
I lay my hand on the burning rails
and search for pennies
I left there to be flattened
like in the press at the zoo
but this one is free
like the bats who bound through the star laden night
the moon their compass
the wind their train

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