Biking to the Beauty Parlor

Biking to the beauty parlor,
early morning dew
glossing grassy tips.
Dodging dirty masks,
McDonald’s foam cups,
and crumpled colorless napkins
littered like lesions along the lane.

Mankind’s messy roots revealed.

Pedaling past unpigmented petals,
spring’s first offerings
fringe the bike path,
the phantom bangs of wedding
parties and parades
that never passed;
blown dry overnight.

Nature’s callous roots revealed.

The city can’t clip its grass,
but taxpayer money’s
funding violence against Blacks.
Both invasive species to a
privileged white path.
The curve sure flattens Uptown.
Two teenagers pass,
now I’m drafting second class
to conceal my silvery part.

Society’s racist roots revealed.


  1. I’m in two minds: I appreciate the social message; I also love the snippets of observation along the way; I feel the latter has been press-ganged to serve the message; I am probably in the minority there but it’s something to consider 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. True. I tend to think of different politics as a simple matter of priorities. But some priorities are warped – we can afford to build a new high-speed train line but we cannot afford for something like food to be sufficiently cheap for people to afford.

    Liked by 1 person

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