One way I think about it-

we are all riding horses, cowgirls-boys-persons if you like. I’m riding too and taking in the thorny cacti heavy with earthwater, the jackrabbit’s ears translucent and poised, miles of burnt yellow sand rivaling the cloudless blue. I catch some eyes and they seem to gleam, “oh, how some think free and easy.” I look around and there are others ahead of the pack in shiny spurred boots, chewing on straw bits and tobacco, speaking spit and hardwood words to the masses. Some lag behind, willing the horses faster, knowing spurs move them not rotten, dangling carrots. But, most all are slumped over in what looks like a strained, but actually comfortable state, motion lulls those souls to sleep and I watch the reins ease and slack in their hands. Riding along, along for the ride. And when the horses stop, our bodies mime the trot.

- Jacqueline Lewis

 

JAQUELINE LEWIS lives in New York City with her transgendered bicycle, Alex T. She has a lot to learn about life and love and bicycle maintenance.