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Iowa Writes SUSAN BRADLEY BUSE What's your name and where are you from? you ask as you on your Surly roll up by my side. Our bikes now in lockstep, I catch on this simple conundrum, posed in these moments of dawn as we leave behind the clothes and roles and expectations of convention. Today, and tomorrow, on this ride all who you think I am, and all that is a part of me I carry, on a 16 lb bike, with a tent and a whim, So maybe you know the deceit of your inquiry, that words will not tell of you or of whom am I. Instead, while our rides are synched, I speak to you and you to me in the rhythmed prose of pedals and the psalms of whirling spokes. We have this time, right now, until you or I pull ahead or fall behind into a new moment of today. Here, in this time and place, I breathe in air that speaks of home, Once each year, for 43 years, they take in and most certainly raise a brow to the skinny legs and sometimes (sometimes not) muscled thighs and bellies and behinds boldly painted in spandex black (Cover your eyes, Mary). Locusts, or - they are a forgiving folk - dragonflies, hovering and giddy, buzz around these bemused hosts who save their guffaws for evening card games with Hamms, perhaps Newton brews, and family and friends. Trying to choose chiding us, reminding us to laugh, at ourselves, sharing with us humor untainted by pretense and overstudy—concise on word, yet spot on— Rosie's Roadkill, these people, the most highly educated population of our states, encourage us with rhyme and love poem. . . There's no one quite like reminding that we can do the right thing even when just doing our thing. There is a wholeness along this trek, a symbiosis of bike jersey and denim, of pannier and tractor grill, dwarfed in the immensity of the land and force of a people who nourish the world. We share fresh pie near beer tents and band stands, without thought of soap or polished heel. We poke fun at and we celebrate each other, east and west and north and south, and most of all the heart of in between.
Here in this Eden I feel my name, |
About Iowa Writes Since 2006, Iowa Writes has featured the work of Iowa-identified writers (whether they have Iowa roots or live here now) and work published by Iowa journals and publishers on The Daily Palette. Iowa Writes features poetry, fiction, or nonfiction twice a week on the Palette. In November of 2008, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) designated Iowa City, Iowa, the world's third City of Literature, making the community part of the UNESCO Creative Cities Network. Iowa City has joined Edinburgh, Scotland and Melbourne, Australia as UNESCO Cities of Literature. Find out more about submitting by contacting iowa-writes@uiowa.edu SUSAN BRADLEY BUSE Susan Bradley Buse lives in St. Louis, Missouri, a 5-hour car (4-day bike) ride south of her childhood home in Cedar Rapids. Buse, an attorney, currently devotes her time to writing, family, and advancements in public education. |
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