on bicyles and the parking thereof

Somewhere out there
Over the rainbow drug haze
There is a man with a fetish
Not your place to ask
Not my place to question
Not his place to experiment
tubal ligation
He possessed more than his fair share of bicycles
Although he wouldn't dare have the parts
One hanging from those oh-so-groovy hooks
One locked to the road sign out the front
Another two, in small pieces made up his pleasure device
Not to mention the special one that he kept safely under lock and key
the special one never got used
not even on sundays when the ladies and gents of the burgesses would go for a motor in the jag
the special one couldn't be used,
it just wasnt worth the risk
what if the super slim tyres got caught in a tram line?
too many things could go wrong.
Logic dicatates
and so it proved that the carefully demarcated bike spaces in the courtyard were not efficiently utilised.
Can't change the world leaving all that concrete going to waste.
You could fit a malvern star in there,
or maybe even one of those thoroughbred ones that you top up with gas
He couldn't bring himself to get more bikes
Then it would be a 'fixation'
no longer a healthy, manly hobby
So he sent word out of the free bike park space
Town criers cried about it
The internerders slavered over it
Word of mouth was quite obvious, whomever heard of word of foot?
And the available ladies pondered deep and long
what to make of this dashing cad and his bike park space
Many an eligible mistress would kill for somewhere spacious and secure for her bike
Soon word spread quickly
Damsels would 'accidentally' drop their handkerchiefs by his table
Maidens would 'just happen' to be passing by
mourning aloud over their bike parking difficulties
Creased and stinky dirty old men would lewdly leave their bikes against the lamp post
just to see if they could get a reaction.
alarmed at all the attention his good natured offer aroused
He sank deeper into the corner
phone turned off
lights spent
computer unplugged and gaffer taped
only moving to occasionally relieve himself
or to tweak the shutters in the hope that the seige might end
###############
fancy all that hullaballoo, just over bike space.
i ask you, really...?