To the girl
cycling
down old
broad street
south-south-
westerly
wearing a
blue helmet
‘thank-you’
I had so
little to live
for before
you came
blowing
past with your
skirt ripple
your thighs
clasping the
saddle
flexing their
white sides
their
pulse of
firm & fat
trainers bent
over peddles
determined
pushing
yours simply
forward
past my work
break cigarette
and if I
paused, it
was only to
worship
something that
lasted no
more than
not long enough.
Saturday, August 10
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