PonyThose little pony rides that only seem to exist in front of old Target and KMart stores. Staring longingly at each passing little boy and girl hoping the sunlight will catch the last of the glint in their eyes. All their other faded colors hopeing for just one more loving child in the saddle. For just one more giggle, one more grin. Longer and longer sits the little pony under the dull lightless 25 cent sign. More and more children pass by, fewer and fewer ever tug at thier parents arms, fewer and fewer still are allowed to stop. And finally, a little girl stops one day, even climbs up on the pony. Oh the joy, to have someone therPony
Untitled 4.14.04The matte black of her jacket blended smoothly with the gloss on her bike in the inner city shadows. On the brightly lit highways the clashing schemes were too much of a blur for anyone to notice. Her heart rate might very well be displayed by the same gauge measuring the revolutions per minute, the tiny needle reaching the redline on every straight away. The music of the engine the only sound to penetrate her helmet. Forever onward through the checker board of light and shadow she raced. A pawn long since broken from its king. Past dim parks with hidden lovers sharing their secrets. Past offices, closed for the night and kept company only byUntitled 4.14.04
