Ask myself “Are you winning?”
Like a dad passing by his son’s room
Peeking his head into the blue-cut gloom.
Head spinning like the wheel of a crashed bike.
However I tried
My brakes wouldn’t bite
Downhill slip and slide.
I went over the handlebars, spiked.
Landed hard on my side
Hurt those prime parts from which God makes fine partners.
“Thank god I had my helmet.”
SYKE. Armours for knights, right?
I was in my fuck wearing a helmet
Shirtless in shorts and sockless, parka and Nikes,
Driving without a high vis on the year’s darkest night.
Alchemisland 
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