Paean to Citibike

I sing of citibike: at its name, the haters love to froth

but honk honk as you may

Behemoth! on this bike I shall stay, behemoth!

Not a-soar like Pegasus; more, Clydesdales’ plodding, cloppy

— nonetheless, you are the best, for all of my short hop-pys.

They call you homely, infamous and more unseemly names

unless it’s all a play, put on, to multiply their fame.

For ne’er afore had WSJ quite so many views

as when to her mouth, Rabinowitz introduced her shoes

Begriming streets and spoiling sights of grammies far and near

— the ones we haven’t nearly killed ‘cause us, they did not hear

O let me sing of

Citibike — you’re here for one and all

(at least until your bankruptcy upon us throws a pall.

Philly, Corfu, Toronto, Warsaw, Minneapolis!

Hey, New York — Why can’t we do what others have before us?)

When ride is done I find a dock all naked, waiting, bright

but

Slam! Bang! Clang! and Clang! again: its green light fails to light

I push, I shove, the bike is caught — the light still does not shine

Your docks refuse to hook me up; you hit with me with a fine

Though promptly and without delay you have always refunded

It’s more than just a pain to find my bank account unfunded.

Yet I’ll sing of citibike: through traffic snarls, honks and pain

midst taxis, trucks, cars backing up — on you, I claim the lane.

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