Shudder

the wheel is squealing, grinding, and peeling rubber off the tire in a wheelie some real heat some friction slipping losing your grip and your sense of conviction censor conniptions but you can't hold this down eternal fit on the paper then center re-word those free bird poems, odes, and flows we birth woes, and broken bones deter foes from our pleasure and treasure paradoxes to measure its measure whether this weather gets better or never we can shut all the shutters and shudder together