The Web Poetry Corner
The Web Poetry Corner
Los Angeles, CA, US
If you have comments or suggestions for Robert Bigalow, you can contact this author at:
email@example.com (Robert Bigalow)
Find a book store near you, no matter where you are located in the U.S.A.!
...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities
Black leather pants
It clings to me like bark on trees
and pulls so tightly 'round my knees
that I can feel my nerves extend
and sensory perception bend.
For every little movement made
my skin is graced by softened suede
like I'm creature caught within
another creatures moving skin.
It creaks and growls as if alive,
a beastly spirit that survived,
that talks of earth and leaves and trees
and tells me how to move with ease.
And, oh, that whiff of stretching skin
preserved forever in the wind.
Like decomposing lemon peels
and loosened skin tags on my heels.
My Harley has a leather seat
and leather boots protects my feet,
but even when my riding's done
my pants and me will be as one.
I'm a biker. If I say
that it's more to life than flying
just above the road some day,
then you'll know that I am lying.
By and by though I may feel
such a sting for earthly pleasure.
Then I put away my wheels
and I walk the streets in leisure.
Usually I find some girl
that is young enough to charm me,
old enough to know the world,
kind enough to never harm me.
We talk of such and such alike,
but I sense distress about them
when I tell them that my bike
is my life. I'll do without them.
But one day I meet the one
beauty which exceeds all scaling,
and I court her just for fun,
always with the thought of failing.
But she's strangely drawn to me
where I sit all tanned and greasy,
and I think that this could be
not too good if it's too easy.
She's a woman. I'm a man,
but I feel her charm is loosing
'cause my bike is pure titan.
I don't even think of choosing.
We make love although I feel
as I'm in a work of fiction.
Maybe it is all too real.
Lovemaking is only friction.
Motorbikes are all about
sliding with the least resistance
ever forward without doubt
out of reach and of existence.
As our night draws to an end
I admit I truly like her,
but I know that I will spend
my life riding. I'm a biker.
So I leave her on the bed
moments after she starts crying,
telling her that if I said
that I'd stay, I would be lying.