Togobi King Makes Me Sing
The rubber rotates,
With the yoke of the spokes.
Two to roll together, as
My toes make’em
Down – Down:
My left knee and my right.
Wish the wind would wind down;
Only one will win this fight.
And it greatly grinds my gears,
And it’s such a sorry sight,
When the potholes and the puddles
Provide more problems to my plight.
My ride reflects the lights from the cars,
I reflect on how soon and how far,
Till I get to where I’m going – flowing forward in the face
Of scenes not yet showing
Within this placeless race.