Cherrylog Road — James Dickey
(rice.edu): We left by separate doors
Into the changed, other bodies
Of cars, she down Cherrylog Road
And I to my motorcycle
Parked like the soul of the junkyard
Restored, a bicycle fleshed
With power, and tore off
Up Highway 106, continually
Drunk on the wind in my mouth,
Wringing the handlebar for speed,
Wild to be wreckage forever.
More motorcycles in literature. I remember this one vividly from HS. Reminded me of my red Vespa. . .
Tags: General