Red and bikes

“There is just something about a red painted bike. Perhaps the colour is a warning for those to step back as the sleek vessel slides across the streets” Gun Roswell

Red and bikes

There are so many to choose from, standing there, in the row, two wheeled rides made for the fun of riding around in the city centre wide. But they are mostly the same, part from a missing wheel or other possible dent, so no matter which one you choose, your few coins you won’t lose.

Motorised is the way to go, when the feet are taking it too slow, to peddle around in a the crowds, as the uphills might be a battle and well, even if the sweating would not really matter, it’s better to ride with an electronic device if your own too feet won’t want to carry its kind.

So, it might be discarded, then again not, as maybe this place is simply the parking slot for this small bike in red, as the owner had to go to bed? But, if you are daring to lend it for a short ride, please leave a note or something, to remind the keeper of the bike, it will be returned, just where it was found, right there on the ground.

Monochromatic Ride

“Riding on the monochromatic streets, on these, two wheels” Gun Roswell

Monochromatic Ride

On a highly tuned, yet very vintage looking bike,
Down the lonely, colourless, black and white streets, I ride
The cold winds, on my battered, wrinkled old face,
But that’s no matter, ’cause I am certainly not, *that* stained
And I definitely not, a person, whom in just, the one place stays
Not at least, for that long
Even if there would be, any sense of “to belong”
As I slowly, and intently, pass by the onlookers, they are watching me ride
And yes, that is really just so fine
For I am really not got nothing to hide
But heck, I may even break up in a big smile