I need a beer. The work piles on. The miles fall short. Time is fading into winter. The desire is there, but the priorities have shifted. I need cx wheels and tires. I need mtb tires. I need my TRPs to not chatter. That carbon steerer tube is going to snap. I just know it. When it does, it's gonna suck. I need to dream about dreams. Summer sent me on a strange adventure. 3 weeks of sickness. Strange power. My body and mind were fighting each other. My bikes were stellar. Cross brings flair. I need to wake up with some regret. Too much of the straight and narrow. Finding flaws. Fixing them. Working them out. Riding through them and making them better. Fruita's coming. Otreeline is porn. The more I look at it the farther I get from what's real. I lived there long ago. I wish then I had the system of scars and knowledge I have now. I would have never left.


Fride said...


That is the first poem where I had a slight clue on what the eff you are talking about for almost 30% of it. Loved it...Congrats!

Bicycle Hellfire Machine said...

...then I have failed.