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An Ode to My Cycleops

You sit silently in the corner dark,
a chastisement of Time’s march on,
that the calendar does one less day mark,
‘til the RAGBRAI journey comes to town.
You trap tight my metal steed,
and repress her firey glory,
no matter how she meets the deed,
a stalemate is her story.
Are you friend or are you foe?
The answer is one I seek to know.

To appease your rage, I daily try,
as steed and I together struggle,
Watching the old Tour go by,
which presents its own trouble.
The historic visions climb and race
much faster than we and yet still
I stationary give good chase,
to the point of a house-bound spill.
Turning visionary corners while in one place
ensures the floor meets my face.

The mighty lions seek to tame you,
and rescue me from your grip
but cannot determine where to maim you,
and run in fear from my salty drip.
Even though we fight and bicker
me with a #@%& and you with a whir,
I know that you will make me quicker,
until RAGBRAI when I am just a blur.
Though I’ll hate you thru Winter’s end
I’ll evermore call you friend.

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