Cycle ride(Poem)

I stepped out
with my Shaolin shoes
and karate legs.

I wore the Ninja helmet
the Kung fu jacket
and began the cycle ride.

Like a social scientist
or a mid-career psychologist
I sniffed the demos.

The weather was wintery
With pregnant clouds
of dark and blue shades.

One fellow with Mark Twain hair
waived his hand
the other one beside him
was like the insect
of Kafka’s Metamorphosis
with a mask.

I wanted some sea-breeze
that’s all
I ain’t a health nut
to come out this early.

On the park bench
sat a productive man
reading George Orwell
like he has rented out
thinking to someone.

At last, Timmy came
And we sat on the warm bench.

He was quoting
Dostoevsky and human suffering shit
come on—
Timmy, your suffering needs no validation
and you know more about pain
than that Russian fuck.

Timmy battled 3 cancers
yet too afraid
to pass on his own thoughts.

How strange
we try to live on
great ideas
great books
and not on self.

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