Bike

I had to give up my bike
because it took up too much space
I can’t believe I’m still living
in such a dinky place

No longer sailing down the street
with my hair flying back
I can’t zip anywhere
and it’s something I can’t hack

I miss my old bike
It was too broken to save
I thought I’d have a new one by now
I’d store it in my woman-cave

I’m still in the same dinky place
Still stuck in the tiny abode
I want another bike, I want it now
Let’s get into a house-finding mode

Not everyone digs living in a hamster-cage
So, for me, it’s almost done me in
I want a place that’s big enough
with space for my new Schwinn

It’s all a fantasy brought on
by a shlumpfy careeriness
a shlumpfy life and shlumpfy home
all add to the dreariness

Some day when I climb out
and wake up in my new place
I’ll forget the tiny-house angst
and the lack-of-bike-storage disgrace

Zipping down the road again
Feeling like a winner
I will happily co-habitate with my bike
That makes me a Schwinner.

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About Mary Borchard

Fabulous art available.
This entry was posted in life, plog-poetry blog, Uncategorized, vintage. Bookmark the permalink.

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