Inspiration: We all have varying ways of managing our cabin fever. What started as an “odd hours” annoyance has evolved into a “Ride on, skaterdude!” every time I hear him.
Odd Hours
Your skateboard wheels kuh-lack! before the sun
Sends quiet light at five fifty-two a.m.
How can you see from inside that hoodie
To steer your cambered rollerplank downhill?
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What holds up your baggy pants, a belt buckled
Crotch level? Most skaters don’t have butts.
You’re young (and dumb?) and full of…energy —
I can’t begrudge you gnarly fresh air thrills.
Just keep your distance every one a.m.
Your brash kuh-lacking says you’re still alive
And breathing well, knees slightly bent, lone ripper.
Elude dread cars and viruses that kill!
Richard Uhrlaub is an author and poet who lives in Lakewood.