the bicycle

by Josef Brustmann
translated by Paul-Henri Campbell


its blue luster
i leaned it against the wall at the town hall
in those days bicycle locks weren’t needed
they’ll dispose of you carelessly like a dead dog
threatened the township clerk
if you leave the Church
no grave, no burial, nothing
i mounted the bicycle again
the blue one
relieved and free
but also trembling slightly
and was worried a bit
to get home without an accident
somehow

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