Tour de Farce
I agree with your comment 'bout bad cycling clothes
(Frankly I'd rather wear pink panty hose).
Please design bike-wear both aero and chic.
(And helmets that don't bring out everyone's geek).
As for bikers and stop signs: I do sympathize
But, indulge for a sec in this mind exercise:
Suppose when your Yugo was brought to a stop
you had to unclip from the brake pedal's top
throw open your door, slam your foot on the ground --
Wouldn't you tend to instead just slow down?
I know it's not right, but lets cool the grandstanding.
Not asking forgiveness -- just more understanding.
Illegal on sidewalks, un-welcome on streets,
urban biking is not the most stress-free of feats.
If I had a nickel for every close shave
with some cell-talking douche in a big Escalade . . .
Don't forget that for every damn bike you see out there
there is one less Corolla polluting the air.
One less commuter car riding your ass,
and one less fat dude in your gym's spinning class
So please give a break to us crazy bike riders.
It's scary as shit sharing streets with you drivers.
If you stubbornly want to play chicken instead,
Note: Your car might get scuffed, but we bikers get dead.
Labels: kunst, serious shit, velotariat
1 Comments:
Love the poetics... and the sketch.
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