I’m headaching the steps of the downward escalator, upward,
Little Sisyphus carrying a bicycle on my back,
Wheels spinning purposelessly in opposite directions,
Sideways hourglass.

I’m an urban cowboy,
Running in a rat wheel,
A test-tube sample
Unknowing of the real purpose of my jog.

Around me I see another wheel,
Man young pushing hard,
And beyond another wheel,
And further three more.
I’m surrounded by infinite number of wheels,
Populated by diligent joggers,
Some quiet, a few trying to slow down,
But all spinning faster,
Like water in a funnel going down the drain,
Inescapable eddy.