I was 14
Harvard Square was
All the dope you could smoke,
Dancing crazily on The Commons
Every Sunday beat home
in the burbs fer sure.
Me and my boyfriend-
Were called the Bobbsie Twins
By a group of older dudes
who hung on the corner near
The loudest of them was this big ole
Bro and his big ole Harley.
I longingly stared and it wasn’t his good looks
Or whatever we’d just ingested.
My Twin kept nudging me
“Go ask for a ride, what’s the worst
That can happen, he’ll laugh?”
So- I did.
“OK Hood’s jump on” he said.
Just me shaking in my
Him chompin on an ancient cigar
As he kicked and kicked till
A sound like no other I’ve heard
Started that bad boy up.
“Hang on and lean into the curves” he yelped
As we roared off down Mass. Ave.
Now, I’m a whole lot older
And if you haven’t had your HD cherry busted
There’s nothing finer
Than wind in your face- or racing up a country road
And the sweetest vibrator ‘tween your legs.
I was hooked from that 1st ride till today.
Guys look at sweet babes going by;
I swivel my head when I hear that roar-
Near or far.
That sound is sweeter than the finest wine, the
Or any Boones Farm I ever drank
Way back when.