in every ride

I’d like very much to be riding right now, but I am without a helmet. How can this be the case?

Faced with such trauma, I’ve been forced to exploit my latest, probably untenable foray into internet media something communication version format poem place. The podcast.

I hear that Ms K Lansell is doing some track cycling! I want to hear more, but I’ll have to wait until she gets off the goddamn bike…

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.


  1. All I could hope for at this stage would be a perfect five seconds!

    Five seconds not worrying about riders in front, beside, and behind.
    Five seconds on top of the gear before the legs and lungs start to scream.
    Five seconds of smooth pedaling, relaxed arms.
    Five seconds of a smooth turn out; up the bank and down.

    And then my time on the track is over and I am thinking about ways of making the five seconds six. Small steps.

    1. oh my goodness, that sounds like it was amazing fun! good luck, I’ll be emailing you next week, to hear more!

  2. I’m trying to think of something more eloquent and sophisticated, but it’s late, I’m tired.

    I rather liked the post and the sentiment though.

    1. Thanks for listening though! It was a poem to replace riding, but I think I like riding better.

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