I don't know if I should call him a man
but he rides down my street every day
with his head tilted,
his short hair, just long enough to fall to the side.

His red 3-wheeler with its white wire-rimmed basket
and pole holding up its yellow flag in the back
and his blue jeans and chain and his ducktail,
his tie-dyed, Van Halen t-shirt and his bare feet
make for a good ride, I guess.

One man gets so enraptured watching him
that he forgets he's watering his lawn
and floods the same spot every day.

Older women walk to the curb,
hoping he will do something strange
besides ring that bell on his handlebars
as he rides past them down the street
slowly out of sight around the corner.