A Poem About Bicycle Commuting
There once was a motorist in L.A.Who drove to work every day.
Though he didn't live far,
He'd travel by car,
And swear at all who got in his way.
He tried to stay calm and genteel,
But each time he took to the wheel
He'd scream and he'd curse
As the traffic got worse
Until rage was all that he'd feel.
He never stopped to ask why or to think
That we all might be close to the brink.
He was truly a twit,
For he cared not a whit
About getting his life back in synch.
Then one day from out of the blue,
He flashed on just what he should do--
He'd give up his place
In this asinine race,
And adopt an alternative view.
No more would he just sit and stare
While his car kept on fouling the air.
At this moment in time,
With an insight sublime,
He dared to assume his fair share.
He found a new use for his bike
that was kinder by far on his psych.
On his daily commute
He now wears a gym suit,
And can park wherever he'd like.
Though his pace may not seem quite as fast
And his colleagues at first were aghast,
He's managed to cope
And inspire new hope,
For he seldom to work arrives last.
To those too blind yet to see,
He offers advice here for free:
Don't be a knave
Or petroleum slave,
You still have a choice--follow me!
Written by: R. Geary, A Cyclist
Found at: <a href="http://osdir.com/ml/politics.activism.carfree/1999-02/msg00002.html">http://osdir.com/ml/politics.activism.carfree/1999-02/msg00002.html</a>;
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