Sitting around after finishing the day’s writing, I had a little Jack Daniels and listened to some Black Label Society, particularly a song called “Funereal Bell.” The aggression of the music triggered a few poetical thoughts about the days when I used to ride. I jotted them down.
CHROME AND WHISKEY
Chrome flash
When moonlight comes down
And the whiskey runs
Like gasoline
Bang the night
Rubber frictions into smoke
A V-Four screams
Motor dreams
Flat out
Black pave glitters with light
Heart shifting gears
Into acceleration
White lines
Blur into the empty distance
As my engine burns
Gin and mescal
Learn fast
When the curve comes
Highway and dirt always beat
Flesh and blood
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