The Lanterne Rouge

The Lanterne Rouge by Annette Allanach

Aqua-marine frame
Etched with his name
His bike was a two-wheeler dream
Each titanium part
Was close to his heart
A truly amazing machine
Oakley blades
His expensive shades
Filtered the glare from his eyes
His oiled legs were bare
Shaved free of hair
Tight black lycra swathed his thighs
He trembled with pride
As the line he espied
Approached at a fearful rate
"A brilliant time
Victory’s mine
My winning this time trial is fate"
His expression was dazed
He looked round amazed
As he crossed the line to applause
He raised his arms high
As an ecstatic cry
Escaped from his grinning jaws
Later - he waited
He anticipated
This must be a personal best
When the times were read out
An involuntary shout
Came bursting forth from his chest
Completely gutted
He stood there and sputtered
His disappointment was huge
The crowd he reviled
When folk turned round and smiled

Tail light

He’d won the Lanterne rouge.

 

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