Saddles and Stems

I very rarely write poetry. This poem grew out of an email conversation I had with my friend Monica. I was telling her I had ordered a longer stem because I wanted the handlebars to be further forward, but it hadn't arrived yet, and that I might want to get a different saddle too, but I wanted to hold off on that until I got the longer stem so I could see if the saddle I had was more comfortable once I was sitting in a different position. She replied, "Stems and saddles, stems and saddles. It sounds like a nursery rhyme." My immediate thought was, "It should be 'Saddles and stems, saddles and stems.' It has a better rhythm." After that, lines of the poem just started coming to me.

Saddles and Stems

Saddles and stems, saddles and stems.
It sounds like a nursery rhyme, Monica said.
Pedals and cranks, pedals and cranks.
Simple machinery names, comforting.

Chainrings and cogs, chainrings and cogs.
Gears out in the open to watch, not hidden.
Add derailleurs and chain, derailleurs and chain,
and I don't have to break my watch like when I was ten.

Fenders and rack, fenders and rack.
Some people dismiss them; to me, necessary.
Lights and reflectors, lights and reflectors.
If you're suicidal, don't make someone else kill you who'll feel like shit for the rest of their life.

Rim tape and spokes, rim tape and spokes.
You don't appreciate spokes till three break in one ride.
Toe clips and straps, toe clips and straps.
I have no idea why Frida only chews the right one.

Healthier life, healthier life.
I never got regular exercise until I started riding a bike.
Obsession and fun, obsession and fun.
Now that I'm capable of going faster, give me speed! What a rush!

Faster bike, wonderful bike.
Frankie's a Giant, a Cypress LX.
I'm glad you're not the jealous type, honey.
You know I love Frankie. Hand me the lube.