Bike Catastrophe (Part I)

The slightly used tube explodes
on contact as the rim
behind it fractures.
The spokes within, once carefully
and delicately tuned now tumble
into a catastrophic implosion
as the thin rods of metal,
which never
should have been trusted,
scatter, like a dropped
jar of marbles.

Left with only shadows of supports
the rest of the frame follows suit.
The curved fork is asked to bend
an unnatural direction.
It likes it's home,
nestled in familiarity
of it's shape.
But it was never a race to see
who gave in first,
the curb or the fork.
It was always the fork.
The left arm bends
to the inside
kissing the right arm firmly,
knowing they're soon to be separated.
Goodbye. the arm rips
from it's joint.
And the left one goes too.