It was as if
I were witnessing
a classic Hollywood western.
There I was
stuck in Lubbock
on that windy as hell day,
so I dropped into
the local drinking establishment
to guzzle some whiskey
for a spell.
It wasn't long before
she drove up
riding the prettiest Harley ever,
all chrome and polished black
with the sweetest sound
a bike could make,
it purred like a kitten.
She leaned that baby
up against the wall outside
& strutted like John Wayne
(some would argue Marlon Brando)
into the cantina
where she bellied up to the bar.
Every male jaw in the joint
was dropped
watching her down
three shots of Cuervo,
pay the check in hard cash,
a big bill,
and saunter right back
out of the place
like she owned it.
She was mesmerizing,
fluid motion,
tight jeans,
a rattlesnake sway.
Every man stood at the window
to watch her kick her stand up
& disappear
on that long black ribbon
into the falling sun,
breathtaking...