on a motorcycle
zigzagging through traffic.
Worn boots,
no sissy bar,
leather fringes flying.
He leans left
to pass a minivan
in the granny lane,
slips between the soccer mom
and a joker doing 70
in the sandwich lane,
kicks it and erupts
out of the blindspot
like vomit.
The colors on his jacket
read: Mothers of Invention.
No comments:
Post a Comment