First Round
September 6, 2026I was walking, pushing the wheelbarrow. TIRED ; THIRSTY; HUNGRY ;
Second Round
September 6, 2026In the city I discovered MINIMALISM ; NOTHINGNESS and my SCOOT !
Fifth Round
September 7, 2026
[ "WE MEASURE THE CITY IN JOLTS." ]
+------100 meters from the office door to the subway grating.
A universe of vibrations.------+
Concrete slabs screaming through the aluminum deck into my ankles.------+
+------------------------------------
Every expansion joint is a heartbeat.
Every curb drop is a cliff.
---------------------------+
[ THE ENEMY ]
[ THE PAVEMENT REJECTS YOUR URBAN PLANNING ]
+------------------------------+
|The kick-scooter is not an
|instrument of leisure. It is
|a stylus scratching a poem
|onto the indifferent face
|of the metropolis.
+------------------------------+
Seventh Round
September 8, 2026SCOOT PERAMBULATION
I was sputtering round on my plastic machine,
The squeakiest scooter that you've ever seen!
Where was I going on wheels made of plast?
I hadn't a clue, but I rattled away fast!
After twisting and turning, completely misled,
I crashed a secret UFO club instead.
At a table sat a girl with a critical stare,
Wearing tinfoil antennas stuck deep in her hair.
She looked at my scooter, then laughed in my face,
Convinced I was a total cosmic disgrace.
With a pitying sneer, she sighed at the view,
And thought, "What a pathetic, omega-level wimp are you."
I froze on my seat, my face burning red,
As she stood up and walked to my scooter and said:
"Did you fly that tin can from the moon up above?
Because it looks like a trash bin, my dear, not a dove."
Then she pointed her laser-pointer straight at my nose,
And the whole alien club started mocking my clothes.
So I kicked the starter, which fell on the floor,
And pushed my sad scooter right out of the door!
I ate a little bread,
And drank a beer, a can.
It was getting late, time to go home, that's for sure.
I went home exhausted and threw myself
Fully dressed on my bunk.
That day was shitty
CAUSE OF MY SCOOTY...
