The Naked Bike Ride

I’d allowed myself to get lost in the mirth and euphoria

of hula hoops, glow sticks and naked bodies.

We were “jamming on it” to Newcleus under the Hawthorne Bridge,

the night’s air chilling the celebration

of our all city ride to a traffic of cheers.

Seemed like a good idea when the sun was up.

But I forgot pack something to cover myself up

for the long sobering ride back to the (deep) Northeast part of town.

Two words: Poor Planning.

~Edward Austin Robertson