how fast i ride

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

     RAGBRAI 2014

Like the wind
up clock God made me,
quick as greased
monkey

droppings
do I careen into a dead
breeze, Allison—
fast and

slow, then fast—
quirky’s my pace. Aaron’s
pace. Cycling historians
one day will

showcase this
shizz at the Aaron’s
Pace Museum. Unique,
and I get there.

Sometimes get there,
sometimes sag,
oft hammer
through,

always safety first,
often crash.
I ride like the broken
hind quarters

of the SUV-
traversed hog,
but they don’t call me
Mr. Porkchop

for nothing. They don’t
call me Mr. Porkchop.
They text me:
I’m on my phone.

The big guy,
I call him Davis,
and he
calls me Rone.

2 Responses to “how fast i ride”

  1. emilyvanh17 Says:

    Reblogged this on gallery and commented:
    A Poem

  2. Vincent Howard Says:

    Aaron, so many fun surprises in this poem!


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