Biker
BIKER
The night sky is made of black tar, and broken glass,
And the moon, if you melt it in a spoon, once was an old hubcap.
So by the light of night, ride the Milky Way’s bright stars
And by day, cruse the endless highway,
Via cheap biker bars, expensive cigars, and blues guitars.
A heart made of gasoline and chrome,
The oily platelets of mother earth, is the only blood in my veins.
The road I roam, together or alone, is my home.
What is around the bend? And is it there still? That is all I ask.
So, fill the haloed hills with wonder. To wander is my task.
Brimstone, flame, and thunder, as I ride down the lane,
My brain, in a padded bucket, to prove that I’m not totally insane.
Picture my skin, some would call it a sin!
But, despite the pain, I like to go against the grain.
Demons, angels, and all beings that have wings,
Or a naked dame, to me they are all the same.
The wind boldly whispers through my hair.
If I listen, it will tell me the truth, but most of the time I don’t care!
There is hell to pay in hog heaven I’m told
So, with Dionysus, I celebrate the mystery of the unnamed tree,
For me, I must set my mind free, and dare to bare my soul.
The ghost in the machine I found is me.
And God, would you believe, I can make more noise than Thee?
In a gator’s abode my bones ride free, no cares to cross my ride
No law to abide, at least none that I saw!
If I were a serpent I would swallow my tail
And into eternity sail.
Where the rubber meets the road
There, forever, would be my abode!
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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