these modern days
poem, 2007

​several miles from home
my bike's wheel locked         so I
hoisted it
        on my shoulder
and started back    for my tools.

I carried the bike
     against traffic
and the people watched
            as the main character
carried
his bike, the bike
through
    various neighborhoods

I carried the bike
    against traffic
and the people watched
            as the masculine
            main character
carried
his bike, the bike
        -a beautiful machine
                    perched on his shoulder

I carried the bike
    against traffic
and the people watched
            as the masculine
            main character
            with a mustache
carried
his bike, the bike
            -What an angel-
             a single mechanical wing

I graced around babies
                    mexican mothers
                                        and the homeless
they looked at me         honored to see
the main character
                    and with    
                                what looked like
                                        the bike
                                        riding him.


I wondered what it was like for         them
to be         
 supporting characters         
                    extras
        and to know that        
        where
        I
        was
        headed        
        the story    was     
                                headed
                                        too.

I crossed an intersection in the     
black neighborhood
where     I     could     see that    
                            crimes        were not
surprising

two    white men     in    a car        yelled
                                    a little off script
hurrythefuckupgoddamnit
I replied with             a lazy middle finger    right on cue

and     I pictured them
looping around            the block
to fight            ME    
                    the mustached main character
carrying
his bike, the bike.

In a dance of desperation and staggering beauty
the bike would be tossed
                    to     them
                             eyeing    their throats
                                                savagely
letting out        feral cries     
                            in excitement
Between jumps and bites I would stand centered as these two foes fell  
                    their
                        pregnant
                                necks
                                    bursting
                        with proud red ribbons unfurling

I would win and it made some
                        important
                            sense in believing        this

But instead     they never looped back            so no fight

        and an hour
                later
                    the masculine main character
                        was home
                drinking iced coffee
                    and having
             a tough time        
    deciding between
reading a book        
    or    
                         looking at porn
    on the             
        computer.