With apologies to Karen Jo Shapiro (who’s already apologized to Emily Dickinson)
Because I could not drop the pack,
It ruthlessly dropped me;
It sped uphill at twelve percent.
I heard it holler “whee!”
I slowly pushed my laden bike,
The panniers did sway;
And at the crest I looked upon
The pack so far away.
It topped another hill at speed,
In spandex-clad back sides;
This is the final time, I swear,
I join this damn group ride.
This was, of course, inspired by Because I Could Not Stop My Bike and Other Poems, and is my entry for the LGRAB Summer Games “read a book about cycling” event. I encourage you to find your own creative ways to butcher a perfectly good poem.