With the work day done
I’ve awaken from
The dream of a cubicled life
No need to pretend
That I can ever be friends
With the girl next door
Or the guy on another floor
I am foolish to think
That I can link
Hard work and small talk
Leading to meaningful relationships
I’ve lied to myself
Friends could be had off-the-shelf
From people paid to be there
When they rather be elsewhere
So I put my gear on one last time
Before I leave my desk behind
Looking to see where the road would lead
Maybe I’d finally find what I need
Shutting the visor closed
My face no one knows
Identity means nothing to me now
With a throttle twist
I do not miss
The tedium of a cubicled life–
One-hundred sixty-two horses pull away
Liter bike brute force under my sway
Leaping car lengths ahead
Exhaust sound inspiring cager dread
The tires grip the road
All its secrets told
Through the feedback in the handlebars
From loneliness I untangle
As I push the bike deeper into the lean angle
All I can hear is the engine
All that is here is my religion
Glancing back at the city in the rear view
I say goodbye at what I ever knew
Hoping to reinvent myself anew
Maybe things will be different tomorrow
The Space Between Me and You 