Wednesday, December 10, 2008

a banshee in black mary janes

just hurtled past a truck stop on
steel wings
all pursed lips, gritting teeth,
clenched fists on handlebars.

shades of bettie, pigtails and venom
a hot dish seven nights a week
forcefully caressed by hot desert winds
the harley fusion of carbinepiston energy, generating motion
and vibration
to eagerly satiate the vortex between
the legs, soaked in metal
and leather
and absorbing every
snarl of the
broken
highway.



for page, and others like her.