Racing

Speedy and slim line,
my go-kart holds me snug in its seat
while propelling down the main straight high speed,
engine screaming.
The kart’s leafy green sides are streaked with black.
I stand out in red.
The go-kart grips on to the corner like someone gripping a cricket bat. Swing!
It goes where I point.
The path is twisty and undulates up and down left and right.
The seat hugs my body as I fly through the corners.
When you push too hard it falls over.
The speed limits my thoughts. Lame. Just play.
Every time I go in the go-kart,
It flies me towards a lifelong dream.
When I go in to the corner too fast the tyres scream for their life and hope across the ground.
When I pull down the dark visor I am gripped with nervous energy.
When I fly down the long straight I duck down to get more momentum, faster, faster down the straight.
When I come screaming back in to the pits I can feel the tyres with my bare hand;
It is burning hot it and leaves my hand glowing red.
I feel alive.