Our first kiss, lips pressed--
Electricity to stone--
A new age to bloom.

ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔢 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔠𝔲𝔟𝔦𝔠𝔩𝔢
𝔊𝔯𝔢𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢
ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔢𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔞𝔯𝔡
𝔎𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢
𝔐𝔢𝔫 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔶
𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔬
ℑ 𝔫𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔬
𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰
𝔗𝔦𝔩' 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔟𝔶
𝔖𝔬 𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱
𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡

The downward momentum is clear to me now.
The engine has built up a full head of steam.
I’d try to stop it, if I knew how.

The fires of industry must burn on somehow;
they tend to burn brightest when fuel is extreme.
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

When currents are surging, we shouldn’t allow
the jingoist fringe to swim in the mainstream.
I’d try to stop them, if I knew how.

Civility means more than I can avow,
but poems can only allude to a theme:
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

Each click of a mouse that shouts holier than thou
is a cog in a treacherous clockmaker’s scheme.
I’d try to stop him, if I knew how.

We worshipped the circuit and forsook the plow
in search of a false technological dream.
Our downward momentum is clear to me now.
I’d try to stop us, if I knew how.

Greased wheels, I knew you once.
I loved to balance like a child.

Roaming the paved streets; riding is like flying.

I knew you when the store held you back.
I chose you from behind handlebars with purple streamers.

Your tires silently carried me to classes,
each brake stop signaled that we were close to our arrival.

I sat on your worn black seat like I was on a throne of sorts.
Even though that seat is tattered with one rip on the side,
all I saw in you was my own **** pride.

Spokes, I knew you once.
I played your tune each journey that we went on.
No hill was ever tall enough, no road was ever too bumpy.

Gears, I knew you once.
Click, Lock, Click
sometimes you were tight and never let me ride
sometimes you were loose and my feet went flying ‘round too fast for me to catch
                     what you were doing.

I knew you once, when time was young.