if ever decided that madmax beyond glamourdome roller-derby fist-padded devil dishing fights on bikes were to feed the E! of the masses … this is my ride to jump that madcoming train.
to pedal, twist, knife out … for sport, for ribbons, for ascensions scratched at.
it is a body electric, masked, scarred, sewn
etching a visage, a history
of maniacal pain and extravagance.
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