turning clockwise and then back.
like that of a clock.
ticks and ticks, until petrol runs out.
until there is leakage
and eager engine failure.
pedaling through asphalt,
reeking of rubber in purgatory,
and yet stumbles upon point of interest,
leaving traces of particles
that suffocate and inflict damage.
who cares? it's done.
and what would be left of the damage
than ten times as much.
and yet, replaceable.