Why do I ride you might hear me ask
To keep myself fit? No, don’t be so daft.
Why do I ride? Is it the company of pals?
The coffee? the chit chat? the bullshit et al?
No my friend it’s not mountains or valleys
It’s not broad sweeping views or cobblestoned alleys
No my friend it’s not Pinarello or Bianchi Pista
Nor the joy of the road, it’s the rule fashionista
And who, you may ask, is our fashion-ist master
Whom we awkwardly strive to emulate after?
Is it Coco Chanel or Amani we trust?
Is it Rapha or Jaggad, Volero and such?
No none of them, sorry – sorry and fuck it
Our fashion guru is our own Lewis John Targett
Thanks to Howard...poet on wheels