Max Levine Ensemble Bicycle As Insurance Plan
She said “calm down, it’s just a bicycle,”
Well I said, “it’s not as if I’d expect you to know,
I mean, it’s not as if I think you’d understand,
This is my insurance plan.”
And we’d been lost and called cops on the shadows,
And thought it was a way to feel safe in the dark,
But it wasn’t.
And the thought that our right to feel free was
contingent,
On the places we walked wasn’t fair to begin with,
And I’d been walking back and forth for my whole life,
And thought of distance as an indicator,
Of the things we can’t reach for our limitations,
Though speed was suggested, the alleged way of,
Crossing that space to your destination,
They said “you go out, start the investigation.”
So lost again in the rain on fourth street,
There was a chain, not of events (those blurred)
But of a broken bike in an unknown town,
That whispered “it’s time you learned about
exploration.”
And it went Fairview, Maple, Waldron, Gist,
And separated only by the shadows of the summer,
Downtown melted and I stepped out past midnight,
Into a world of idle roads and streetlights,
And I thought “this is what it’s like to feel in
control.”
And I remember, feeling freer in the cold outside,
Through wind, down streets on a dark night ride,
Thinking “distance only is as it’s defined.”
And all this talk of taking matters into our own hands,
Was embodied by the passing pavement under,
And embodied in a way we could understand.
