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.