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The road I don’t travel: yet
By blooze56
May 18 2008
From my windows
I face due west.
A water tower sits on
A far off hill-
I imagine a tag:
Tony loves Jessica.
From my windows
Traffic rushes by on one of the
Three highways a decent
Fastball pitcher could reach. And
Who needs sky eye 4 when
I could do a bitchin’ traffic report
While eating a Twinkie or two.
No heli required….
At night, after bars have emptied,
Ball fields long since darkened
They roar by below me.
I must be able to identify models
And regular passers through by now.
The big v-twins curve along the river,
If lucky enough
Scream through the intersections.
From my window
I see the high rise next to the one
I reside in.
I hear the chair car vans
Beep beep beeping as they back up-
So cautious with their travelers.
Careful not to hit one of us.
From these windows, I see a scootered
Neighbor
And wonder:
Have they ever ridden bitch?
Or lone?
And what do they think of me blazing across the cross walks
And into the street
In my battleship grey
Krip Kaddy- likely
Thinking: that girl needs to
Slow down! ME? At 5 mph’s?
In all black, of course the
Skull kicks on my feet black
T’s one could see at Laconia
Or Sturgis or Boston H-D-
5 mph’s:
That’s too damn slow for my brain
To fathom-still.
From my wheelchair
I get a good glimpse at
Cagers in awe of
This big bold inked woman-
Bumper stickers slapped on the back
Of the Kaddy:
Making my few choice statements
For the lack of a roarin V.
Proud to be free enough to
Not ever spend all my days
Lookin down from my windows-old
Kitchen chair pulled up close-
Despite my pains
Throbbing joints and tendons-
I ride in my chair out there
Without fear
Never am I short
Of well placed
Head shakin emotions
At cell phoned ignorami
Rushing off to their cubicles.
Me? At my silently roarin 5 mph’s
I’m off to some kinda therapy
To keep me patched together
So one day this aging biker poet
Can wear a cloth patch
On the old leather that hangs quietly
Patiently waiting to come off
That big wooden hanger
That says:
Member. Prospect.
From my windows
I see the tagged water tower
On the rise due west
And beyond that:
The Black Hills
A road I’ve not traveled to:
Yet.
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