This is the bicycle daydream. It comes with cute ceramic water bottles filled with vitamin water tucked in against the waist. The gentle undulation of New Haven makes the perfect percussion in this conversation between woman and machine. The late capitalist euphoria of clean, pristine, wholesome, nourishing and moral seems less comical. As I breathe in the last whiff of summery air, and step up the gear. And feel like my calf muscles are playing the mandolin. So this is what it was supposed to feel like. To look forward to one’s prune and apricot. And vitamin water.
I even have a gelatinous knee to complete the show. Ripe pink and fleshy. Documenting the new experience with flesh. With machine. I pump up the beat so as to feel just enough liberation, not too much around sharp turns and traffic. Just enough to feel cavalier. And we move up and we roll down. Along the undulations of summery New Haven.
I buy cereal bars, and protein milk shakes and apricots and almonds. And ride forth into sunshine. The world bobs up and down alongside, brimming with vitality. And good cheer.