Biked to the gorge with my best gal Mossy pants this month. We stayed one night at Dancing Roots Farm and the other at our friends on the Washington side of the river. We had a great time and It was wonderful sharing a mini bike tour with a friend! 🙂 Got back to help City Repair in the large transition of remodeling our new head quarters and give away free tea from the T- Horse downtown.
Below the pictures is my latest poem.
To some they an open road.
Of freedom and adventure, a traveling mode.
Common, busy, public spaces.
Where people travel of different genders, classes and races.
Reflective of what is valued in our culture.
An up-kept, paved and toxic sculpture.
Maintained for cars and mass transportation.
Feeding oil wars and gridded isolation.
Bicyclists are to stay off to the side.
On the broken glass, dirt and rocks where they ride.
The cars whizz by dangerously close.
While the cyclists inhale a smokey dose.
Of petro-exhast and insults to get out of the way.
But “the bicycle infrastructure is great!” So they say.
That’s when I realize this story parallels.
So many others our society tells.
My story of being young, blonde and white.
I have rode my life like a car without fright.
On roads paved of privilege and ease.
Driving my vehicle where I please.
Our culture in in denial of our collective story of separation.
Posting signs to “share the road” and ignoring the real foundation.
Of the suppressive system of injustice and inequality.
I feel overwhelmed and unsure how to change this reality.
I want to knock down the patriarchal corporate ladder.
I want to stand together and chant Black Lives Matter.