(See Note Below)

I think that I shall never see
bike infrastructure lovely as thee.
I’ve seen the worst drivers of my generation
careening madly, nakedly hysterical.
One day *DMD finally knew
what it had to do, and began,
all motorists pausing, while a bike can cross
all distance breathes to finally dream of safer passage.
Let us go then, cycling buddy and I
when Silver is spread out before us as a roadway etherized with traffic calming.
O what can ail thee, knight-behind-wheel,
alone and palely stymied from crossing Girard?
The diverter now stops cars at this spot
and all bike bells sing.
One driver, possibly drunk, pounds the steering wheel and
screams, “Want some! Want some way to cross!!!!”
But you, diverter, shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept curbs, besmeared with sluttish tires.