Centrifugal by Douglas Jones


Centrifugal
by Douglas Jones

The spider living in the bike seat has finally spun
its own spokes through the wheels.
I have seen it crawl upside down, armored
black and jigging back to the hollow frame,
have felt the stickiness break
as the tire pulls free the stitches of last night’s sewing.
We’ve ridden this bike together for a week now,
two legs in gyre by daylight, and at night,
the eight converting gears into looms, handlebars
into sails. This is how it is to be part of a cycle—
to be always in motion, and to be always
woven to something else.

Douglas S. Jones grew up in Clements, California. His poems have appeared in Hayden's Ferry Review, The Pinch, Blackbird, Watershed Literary Review, and elsewhere.

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