Wide roads were laid with tar and asphalt, flat and level like the land.
The sun bore down on it and I could pop the bubbles boiling up on the road.
WIth my bike I'd ride across town on them and then through the alleys-
Every block had alleys which were caliche and every two houses had their own dumpsters,
Taller than me, steel and boxy with heavy metal lids.
I'd speed up most in the alleys, while horny-toads fled from my sudden passing,
And end up on the East side, too far from home.
But I wanted to go to Taco Villa. My favorite burritos, and I had enough to get one and maybe a Coke.
A couple of times I'd come too close to cars and they would honk.
I'd ride all the way back to the West side to town to William's house and politely ring the door bell.
He and I had the same names so we thought we were clever telling other people we were brothers
Because we had the same names.
They would always go along with our story.
William and I would bring home our own collection of horny toads
And we would let them go in his yard- from the coffee cans we carried on our handlebars.
His dad would show me how to throw a frisbee so it would fly straight.
I'd then hop back on my bike and set out for home, twisting the gearshift
To the fastest gear and pedaling hard.
And flying to my house in the back alley I'd grab my brakes hard and turn-
Sliding in the caliche in a long cloud of dust,
While in one fluid motion stepping off
And carefully leaning it on the kickstand at the end of my skid.
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