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Racy Alternation

Spellbound storm rider,
Balls clipped to cleats;
I’ve got time on my side,
For my feet fly so fleet.

I tell of two cities
Passed through on my way
Calves scream Holy Cow!
Pumping night upon day.

Master of your suspension
Spinning fiery agaze;
Fierce battling for freedom,
A Tour de Force ablaze.

The swifter the legs,
The greater cloud’s dust;
My rapid ride rising
With each forcible thrust.

My ligaments all torn,
Red-raw stalked rhubarb;
Sweat leaks head to toe,
(How I do rue my garb . . .)

Eyes hunger on the prize,
Mind’s frail fingers fumble;
If I can’t top this century,
I fear I may crumble.

Next whirling dimension,
Just out of my sight,
I’ll bunny hop across,
Hare headlong in flight.

I’ll be gone from this world,
In an eye blink or two,
Escaping time’s sentence . . .
I’m coming for you.

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