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timothy-mooneyPoems
I was seven. The sidewalk lured. The Huffy beckoned. The hill... The hill... Skinny locomotive legs Pumping madness blindness happy Freedom flight pumping pumping The hill... The hill... Baseball cards in spokes were roaring Soaring wheels and squinting windy Boymachine thrumming heavy The hill... The hill... Swerving Fords and Chevys curving Hopping curbs and doggie-dodging Lightspeed hoping Seven and no sign of stopping Hit the rock... Funny how it all got slow, now Boy/machine were separated One went one way one the other Gravity The enemy
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Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 9:57 PM UTC
The Grande Collapse
I was seven. The sidewalk lured. The Huffy beckoned. The hill... The hill... Skinny locomotive legs Pumping madness blindness happy Freedom flight pumping pumping The hill... The hill... Baseball cards in spokes were roaring Soaring wheels and squinting windy Boymachine thrumming heavy The hill... The hill... Swerving Fords and Chevys curving Hopping curbs and doggie-dodging Lightspeed hoping Seven and no sign of stopping Hit the rock... Funny how it all got slow, now Boy/machine were separated One went one way one the other Gravity The enemy
copyright 2011 T.P.Mooney
Written by
timothy-mooney
American
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 9:57 PM UTC
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