10/27/18
Like A Bike Gang
Not too slick.
Old trees overhead covering the blue.
Leaves turning and falling.
The lane game.
Drilling.
Double it up, serve it up, whoop it up.
Howling graves.
All down Bass Road.
The longest alleyway in town.
Near houses full of ghosts.
Past times at the high.
Dress up day at Bill's cafe.
Breakfast ribeyes.
And coffee.
Dodging traffic.
Popping steps.
The long hidden trail.
Behind the stadium.
To the cotton mill.
Riding the east streets.
Like a bike gang.
The Cuckoo's Nest
The loopy, the droopy, the sad, the mad. The unfortunate brains, stained and in flames. With no hope, just mope, no laugh at a good jo...
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