A Poem About a Man on a Bike

Incessant city beats,
An insistent pulse in my temples,
Phone shouts belligerent voices into my brain,
My phone becomes I, Phone,
Becomes a life of its own,
And batters me with adverts,
It won’t leave me alone.
And people,
All these people,
So many faces all the same,
And they all want a piece of me,
And they all seem insane,
And they’re hijacking my sanity,
And jamming up my diary,
Demanding me immediately,
Commanding my obediency,
Like bailiffs raining down on me,
Until I’m so stressed I just can’t see,
Will someone please give me the key,
And set me free?

So before I end it all,
I cancel my taxi call,
And jump upon my bicycle.

This makes City angry. He,
Conjures a cacophony of cars horns,
Whips up a whirlwind of white noise,
And fumes rip and tear at my lungs,
Walls and busses squeeze the space,
Traffic lights glare furiously conducting,
A steel symphony of pain,
Angry ants in baseball caps blindly block the cycle lane,
Waves break across pelican crossings again and again,
The blood rush in my temple threatens to explode the vein,
I throw my shield before me now running on adrenaline,
I am sure all is lost and I must be surely going under, when…

The dark army slips down a slip road,
And is swallowed by motorway,
Whilst I climb gentle lane,
Going by a slower way.
Skyscraper fades into sycamore at last,
And the crowd cries no more at last,
And silence slides comfortably between the sky and grass,
And I can breathe.
Reaching the top of the hill,
I look down upon the defeated town below,
And feel my racing heartbeat slow,
To a more leisurely pace,
And with a smile upon my face,
I whistle down the other side singing,
With the wind in my hair and that warm sense of winning.
Today is mine,
My phone will have to find,
Another I to terrify,
My trusty steed and I,
Vanquishing all enemies,
Change up a gear and head for the sea,
My two wheels have rescued me,
And we are free.

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