A Bicycle Complaining about its Underusage

by Alain Izabayo



It’s unimaginable that my cost 

Is less than the glittering sneakers 

Some people prefer 

Yet I offer better locomotion and comfort.

Or maybe people don’t know what they want!

I thought they value money  

But maybe I was wrong;

Otherwise, if price was a factor as they say 

I would have conquered people’s hearts! 


Recently I was surprised by some people’s 

Ignorance about how safe I am.

In a heated exchange between my boss 

And his neighbor,

The neighbor claimed that when he thinks about biking 

He thinks of his blood flowing 

From a headless, limbless body 

Lying helplessly on a road surface.

You should have seen how his eyes rolled bashfully  

Like a 3-year-old child

After learning that only two percent of the accidents 

Involve me or my cousins.

And by the way, if everyone opted to use us 

All the horrible crashes would be forgotten,

Only a few minor scratches amongst us would occur.


I was appalled by the hypocrisy of my challengers

Yet they remain more popular and cherished. 

My challengers provide travel services 

At a cost of intoxicating the clean breathing air.

The challengers have also demanded 

That people must forget the naturally filtered water.

The challengers have intimidated people enough 

To make them surrender the fertile soils 

For these huge challengers to be buried after use. 

I have attempted to expose them but

Was never taken seriously at all.

Yes, I always want to communicate 

But people don’t understand what I say.

My voice is taken to be an annoying clinking sound 

That must be silenced by lubrication. 

They forget that I can also hear their cracking joints 

If they don’t use me so often.


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