"Somewhere, down somewhere".......kronk

Riders, on a barren steppe-

Motor-ponies doing a lazy gallop-

Muscled-up and muffled-up-

Silent running..No hats-

Don't talk to me, brother.

I want to hear the wind-scream.



Music? Oh yeah..Love the stuff-

In fact, though I can't even strike a note,

I've made lots of my own.

Gigabytes of sound collected over

a lifetime..Melody, harmony,

rolling-rock and piston-roll-

Guitar, machine-rifle, cowhide,

crashing surf and breaking hearts-



"We've talked of metal beasts and

righteous men and heavy, mind-tunes.

Can you guess what we're going to

talk about now??? Ahhhhh, right :)

You do know a little something about

us, don't you."...hehe..



Some dudes like to ride solo.

That's fine with me, don't you know.

But, I like a little something 'tween me

and the sissy bar, my man and you

can say that I told you so.



What's more becoming than an office-girl

in dusty jeans or a mother, sporting leather?

Long, lean fingers wrapped around one's waist

Tapping-out some secret intent..Oh My Lord!

I just love to wonder!



Wind and night and motorcycles

Life, memory and tunes

My rider and I...We sleep all day,

then we roll 'neath the desert moon. ;)

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