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"Huffy"

I could have sworn
Down and up,
That I was in
Hypersonic-super-speedball mode

A rabid charging frenzy,
Eyes bulging, dilated
Like a Woodstock hippie

I pedaled with the fury of typhoons,
I pedaled like the childhood monster under my bed
(Scary Larry)
Was in chase, just about to nab me
And take that chunk outta my ass
He'd been eyeing

I was a maniacal madman
with dauntless determination

Tuned out,
Zoned in,
Knuckled up

I scrutinized the oncoming leap of faith
As its distance decreased
way too quickly

Bike and ramp,
Were destined to cross paths
in
5 seconds,
I shut my eyes,
4...

8 eyes watched 2 limber legs grinding,
1 crazy cortex pumped Endorphins
like an uzi pumps shells,
3...

The ramp
was thick veneered plywood
With the hunger of a bear,
It was
sloppily painted,
Yellow, orange and red flames.
It leaned insensibly
Against a blue,
Faded,
Plastic milk crate.
It aimed toward danger.
2...

The bike was a white Huffy,
Mags,
Pegs,
Bad brakes and scratched paint,
greased chain pain
Machine.
1...

I traversed to turbulence,
Friction diminished quickly,
Rubber went from concrete,
To wood,
To air.

I floated.
Flew.
Life's nutrients filled me.

Scary Larry was gone.

The frantic frenzy was
replaced
with sheer excitement.

Tuned in,
Buckled down,
Gone from section 8 to feeling great.

Cheers reigned from 4 mouths,
2 tires bounced down,
But 1 mistake was made...
I was cocky.
I turned to 8 eyes,
delivered a smile.

Light went dark.

In recount,
the speed was that of a funeral line.

My head turned too far,
so my neck turned too far,
So my shoulders turned too far,
So my arms turned too far.
My front tire,
could not argue.

The Huffy wobbled,
Shook like a seizure,
Tipped left,
Hurled me right.

Chin to pavement,
Elbows hit knees,
Arms to toes,
All sliding,
Grinding
Through pulpy flesh.

That smug,
Sanctimonious sneer,
Had bit my pompous ass.

Getting up before the agony set in
Just so I could kick that pain machine,
Was my only retribution.
But it stubbed my toe on impact.

The Huffy wins again.
That Huffy has chalked up
More scraped knees
Than call girls
On West 44th in '88

I chalked up another lesson,
Unlearned.

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Photo used under Creative Commons from Chris Piascik