Biker Poem by Mark R Slaughter

Biker



oil-glide -
piston rides upon the ring
to thrum in their betrothal

chrome-hot mirror pipes
blush out reflections

And in his head
he's air-cooled

King of his horizons

talking torque
unto himself

dreaming out a route -
the land of Sixty-Six

And on he roars
baying

his wife at home
praying.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
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