Catch the breeze,
clack, clack, clack
up the tracks to the
rack at the top of
the hill, still
black silence with
no violence, heart
pounding, hounding
the air with a pair
of butterflies
suddenly, herking
and jerking, forwards,
backwards, then
dropping from the top,
plopping and flopping
my head bopping, nerves
on the curves, the
speed swooshing like
the wind, looping and
swooping and the need
to stop before I pop off
the top
but still another hit of
loops, round and
round, a blur of motion
like the ocean, rolling
and dropping, down and
down, then turning into
more loops like
hoops, racing towards
the exit, jerking, herking,
and plerking, dizzy and
zizzy, swaying and stumbling,
then,
STOP.
by Javier, age 15
photo by Johann Espiritu via flickr