Cyclopedia. Part 12
dit Pere Ubu
In the Parc des Princes
sashes and bouquets
the winner smiles
I did it for France
Alone on the Alps
Tommy Simpson is dying
christ its hard
he takes a little help
(FOR THE DEFINITIVE AUSTRALIAN CYCLING POEM, "MULGA BILLS BIKE" SEE BANJO PATERSON; SEE ALSO CYCLING IN ART AND LITERATURE, AND BOOKS.) Il Campionissimo When you were king of the mountains
Fausto
the kilometres hissed by
like busy moments
beneath your tyres
and the pave was no more
than grit on your tongue
young Italian girls
threw wayside flowers
as you ticked past
spokes flashing in the sun
and in the Tour de France
peasants in the Alps
leaned from windows and shouted
allez Coppi!
and forgot their own man
I remember how
you never seemed to lose
and how
you pushed your goggles
on to the brow
of your thin face
and smiled
as you crossed the line