DOCUMENTARY

(1921 Schrader ad)


“Other men can’t begin
To compare to them,” she said.
The interviewer had removed
Him-or-herself, so she was
Talking to thin air.
She meant
The bikers
She revolved around
As if she were a moon
Caught in their orbit.

She belonged to the club
As a whole, and could be
Passed around. She’d do
What she was told,
Cook or clean,
Strip to earn money
To support them.
It was their job
To concentrate on
Big criminal business.

The “property of …” patch,
She said,
Was a sign of respect.
It would tell a passing stranger
Who she was.
I thought, but what about the stranger
In the mirror?

-- © 2010 by Jack Veasey


(All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced or duplicated in any form without the author's written permission. )

WHEN I REINCARNATE

(photo from Hiren & Punkaj)


Forget this New Age princess
Shirley MacClaine stuff.

I want to come back as a biker chick,
Get passed around (at first) from guy to guy
Like a cheap bottle
That tastes better
Than it should. Let me
Get gang banged
On the green felt of
The pool table,
And leave a deep impression
Of my legendary ass. Let me
Rock the clubhouse
So they’ll all want
One more taste,
Although they never
Dreamed they would. Let me
Provide the inspiration
For knife fights
Between the Bros,
For tattoos
That immortalize me --
Till that fatal accident
Or liver failure.

I want to be the subject of
A jukebox song, one
Guys will wait in line to play.
Let me be
That mistake
That breaks up
The bland marriages
At last, and
Let me be long gone
When hubby turns around.
Let me leave behind
The mark, the sting, the scent
That sticks
Forever. Let me be like
The road
That left them
Restless.


-- © 2010 by Jack Veasey