`CAFÉ RACER
Leather necking wind
Corners on black road surface lust
where devils wink
and angels fly off
to safer clouds
leaving behind Tommy Knockers
and café racers chasing
shadows into curves
where knees kiss the road
and shoulders slip the bounds
of gravity
while tires lick flat black
and side bend
hanging between the
death of beyond and the clouds
of now
as the riders beat the leather
into sweat
tasting speed
spitting at careful
dashing for the next
of what’s up front.
Roger Singer 