Tag Archives: Crotch-rockets

YOU AND YOUR GREEN MACHINE

 

We hold our breath
just before
Memorial Day weekend

winds up, hear
the gears whine,
feel the speed

at ninety-plus,
barbed wire either side—
listening for the abrupt,

the certain screech
as you fade up the canyon.
We pray for your mother.

 

 

This post begins the new category of ‘DECK POEMS’: John & Robbin’s evening collaborations.