sneeze

jaysus ...

for work,
there are no breaks,
no lunches,
nor disconnects from con-soul.

plugged, juiced, and firing
as fast as this stupid machine can appease,
i plot, plunder and plan
my next moment on two wheelsey.

for,
every second is a movement
toward a time of pedalstroke -

and,
all the gilded, trophied prizes,
could make me not a biker-bloke.
-

lord, i wish i was outside,
right fukkin now.
~