Ride Into Town

In which I jotted down notes on my way through a park.

Ride into town

 

Tired of house I ride into town

With my bike and muse

I see people I never want to see

Some with children some with friends

My ride is undisturbed 

It is peace

I go to the lake

Ducks perched on other fake plastic ducks

Water is mud ridden 

A somber tone 

Cars scattered with their people

Civilization leaks in and it is time to depart

 

I crave sound of my town

Headphones are slipped off but stored nearby

My cycle takes my form to a baseball field

I take a bench and peer through rusted link

I am reminded of the one I once called best friend

Trees move

Players of the field

Tossing a ball back and forth

The many sounds and potential watchers bring uneasy feelings

On go headphones

Drown out the world

 

I arrive next at a park

Two people reside

One flees on being sighted

I suppose he values secrecy and loneliness as much as I

I know I’ve seen this before

Still I find relief with only one extra park go-er, a child

My fleer moves toward a brook past more fake plastic ducks

Perhaps with real ducks perched on them as well

The child runs toward his mother and sister 

A bounce and a mad grin

I stare at a huge fake plastic rock

 

Still I can’t shake the feeling, déjà vu perhaps

This all has happened before not only in present

But in future 

I know what happens next

I smell it feel it taste it

I saw the child’s mother calling for a ride before it happened

They walk back to my park to wait and 

I've seen it I knew it

All of it

And Fleer returns

He is dressed much like Bender 

I see his anxious look know he wants me gone

Needs me gone perhaps or something Terrible

Alright dear Fleer, I’ll be on my way

 

The sky is perfect I’ll go there one day

But no photographer am I

One thought before I left, the kid

The child he knew who what I was

He smiled, the Indigo the humanist

I smiled back nodded

Beautiful souls they are

The ones I do not avoid every day

The people worth the living

Particularly young ones

One more stop have I

I left with a feeling of re-occurrence

Just as I had came, a wanderer

 

Unfinished business inspired ignition

I had this feeling that would not be the last of Fleer

Business finished as Fleer appears to cross my path

He proves himself a nervous soul

An eye on me at all times

I granted Fleer peace of mind

Goodbye

I turn into my neighborhood

Home is final destination ‘

His eyes, though, as they peered to mine

Mentally pleading

Do not follow

For you, dear Fleer I take the long way home

I knew, though, that was not the last of dear Fleer. 

Author's Note

Most of this is jots of notes. I decided not to edit it much. Raw thought is what I was aiming for.

Reviews

[TLK]

I scanned the whole thing for punctuation. I was impressed that you are letting the line breaks speak for themselves so plainly. You only use a few apostrophes, a hyphen, and what might be a misplaced single quote that goes nowhere.

So, yeah, I like that.

Your lines "I see people I never want to see / ... / My ride is undisturbed" are an intriguing combination. I am left imagining you sailing above the world, over its smooth glassy surface, not worrying about the people who you are unwantedly seeing. This lack of concern is intensified by the image of "Cars scattered with their people". I like how cars are the first item in that sentence, and the owners of the people.

Favourite line: "I stare at a huge fake plastic rock". Not quite an Ozymandias-level ruin to leave to the world, is it? Huge Fake Plastic is my title for this poem. I might learn how to hack 'dem databases to change it. I'll get me a green-screen monitor and start drinking over-caffeinated carbonated liquids and mainline high-fructose corn syrup diabates. LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME.