Night (Bike) Rider

In a few hours I'll wake up,

if I even have to,

to punch into work

at a job

I increasingly hate.

But that will be then,

Now is now.

I hike up my pants to my groin,

before swinging my leg over my bike

and rolling into the street.

(Contrary to popular belief,

I feel safer riding at night.)

A warm and rare

kiss of Autumn wind

enters my lungs.

I pedal past the college

that caters to a niche

and will not enroll the likes of me.

My ennui blows off my shoulders

as I ride into the wind

and smell the sweet

sticky scent

of the donut shop

down the street.

I light up a cig,

whose amber light

disappears with me

into the darkness.