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The Bicycle
- University of Wisconsin Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
The Bicycle I practiced kissing on the ash with its patch bare of bark like a belly, and the knob in the middle, a stunted arm or tongue.At the backyard edge, the grass fell away. I could see how everything connected— the earth to the white roots. Into the trees, my family threw objects in anger: a small rake; a glove, fingers stuffed with leaves. Branches grew around them. I don’t know if they knew. I swear I remember a bicycle, back end smashed, tire spinning errantly in wind, as though still believing it could run. -27- ...