the boss of our club
the bull could do tricks the rest of us could barely dream of he told me.
Could stand on his hog, and race down the freeway at a hundred and three
Could outmaneuver every member of the gang, he was hell on wheels.
most of his tricks were secrets, hidden in long-standing conceals.
We made him the captain, the boss, the king of our club.
He takes his motorcycle inside when he soaks in the tub.
Trusting no one, for his family was pretty hard on him, liars too.
Can’t trust anyone, he told me once. Have not since I was two.
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