more mondays off, please.

how i didn’t want that road to end.
23 miles was not enough.


not pictured:

heather’s home-made pumpkin ice cream
in fiesta-like striped bowls

the sound of the other heather and i’s laughter cascading
and the heart-shaped cheesecake
her boyfriend sent

salt-water hands held to chest

rob buys us sheets of 25-cent-machine mustache tattoos
rob clears away the dishes
rob hops up on the sidewalks with his bike
to pluck flowers
to stick in heathers helmet
bag strap
bike rack

karthik and i
pedal side by side
gravel crunching underneath
ocean to our right
picking apart multiple things including
san diego’s critical mass

at some point this song rolls on the mental reel
pedaling bridges over channels and i think
this one’s for you shiz

laughing at the solana beach station
when rob points to the mini binder clip
on my brake cables and asks
what’s that?
oh, that’s my gps system
i explain
that’s where i clip the directions
i write on pieces of paper

the you’ve-gotta-be-fucking-kidding-me
sunset boulevard/fort stockton hill
how even when i want to pull over
i pedal through the resistance

my arms outstretched to chicago
how i say that when i think of you
i think of your light
its brightness streaming

doris and brook
knocking on the front door
during a nightwalk
before they go in tomorrow for the birth-giving
thank-you cards in their hands

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