Stuck at a Red Light

Hard plastic wedge, bike seat, pulsing into bruises

as she rocks backwards, forwards on conversed feet,

squeaking rubber under a red light, under broadening daylight.

Her image becomes a postcard slipped into the mail room of

thoughts drivers-by should address when they get around to it:

a young girl stuck to a ride with wheels going nowhere

behind impassable yellow lines

waiting for a little white man to appear

and tell her she can walk away.

 

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