The Motorcyclist

Written by: Chad Wood

In the rear view is a big slab rider in
tiger prints on the open road.

Off the pike and down the route, I
see my breath she sees the inside of
a brain bucket lid.

Crispy corn snakes slither between those
bubble gum wheels, I see my breath she
parts the fog with hot drag pipes.

Her gore-tex grips those tasseled ape hangers, in
armor head to toe.

The silence breaks into four-banger parade,
I see my breath she lets off the
binder and flogs up the dawn.